“What makes you think my boss will hire you? You don’t even know him.”
“Just ask him for me, will you? If you vouch for me, I’m sure he’d hire me.”
“Like I said, you don’t know Oliver Ackerman.”
“Just help me out. You know I’ve got the skills and experience necessary, probably as good as, if not better than, most of his men.”
“If I ask him, it’s not going to be easy avoiding red flags. Getting hired to work in Oman requires working with the state department and the local government. There’s plenty of vetting in that process.”
“There doesn’t have to be,” Hawk said. “It’d just be for a few months. Ask him to meet with me. That’s all I want. He could just pay me under the table.”
Ray exhaled slowly and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do in the morning. In the meantime, let me get you a blanket. You can sleep right there. It’s late and I’ve got a big day in the morning.”
“I really appreciate it, Ray.”
Ray returned quickly with a pillow and a sheet for Hawk.
“The light’s by that wall,” Ray said. “You look tired. I’m going to bed now, and we’ll catch up tomorrow.”
“It’s good to see you,” Hawk said with a faint smile.
“You too. I just wish it was under different circumstances. Harboring you as a man on the lam isn’t how I envisioned our reunion.”
“Me either.”
Hawk shuffled toward the bathroom and took care of business before heading back to bed. On his way to the couch, something on Ray’s desk caught Hawk’s eye. Hawk noticed a folder with a code name on it. He eased down the hall to make sure Ray’s light was out. Satisfied that he had turned in for the night, Hawk eased back to the desk and rifled through the papers.
Hawk then stopped as his mouth fell agape.
I need to talk to Alex.
CHAPTER 2
Brighton, England
ALEX DUNCAN LOATHED MONDAYS for many reasons, reasons far beyond their simple existence on a calendar. Ultimately, they served as a stark reminder of the previous life she once had. She considered her job with Firestorm to be about as perfect as it could get, using her skills to shut down terrorists and keep Americans safe from rogue attacks. But today she stared at herself in the mirror as she combed her hair in an effort to look presentable before trudging off to her humdrum job.
When Hawk vanished, Alex and Blunt both decided they should do the same. Staying hidden in the U.S. was a difficult task given the amount of resources at President Michaels’ disposal. So, they both headed to Europe—Blunt to the coast of Italy, while Alex went to England. Alex wasted little time in finding a job working for Lloyd’s Bank in Brighton, a sleepy seaside town in the southern part of the country.
Using her hacking skills, Alex created an alternate identity for herself, complete with a healthy resume. However, she was careful to make sure that it didn’t stand out so much that it seemed overly impressive to her prospective employers. Enough to get a job working for the company’s cyber security division was her aim—and she succeeded.
In the months since the Firestorm team had parted ways, Alex struggled with the aftermath. The camaraderie she had experienced on a regular basis with Hawk trumped the mundane moments of sitting alone and pecking away on her keyboard. Yet now this was all she did with no respite. She shied away from developing any semblance of a social life given that she might have to disappear any moment and wouldn’t want to leave behind any clues, much less deal with the burden of lying to everyone she met.
However, Alex found one silver lining in her new life—access. Working for Lloyd’s gave her the ability to snoop without drawing much attention. She managed to hide her cyber footprint as she searched financial records and dug into the backgrounds of many aliases of terrorists and politicians alike. Although her work at Firestorm afforded Alex an array of resources, gathering the type of information that gave the team leverage over certain suspects also risked her exposure. One careless move and someone at NSA would have found great pleasure in turning her in to the agency’s brass. But at Lloyd’s, that precaution wasn’t so necessary as long as she maneuvered carefully through the bank’s system.
Working long hours and cyber snooping after hours, Alex compiled quite a treasure trove of useful information about some of Firestorm’s biggest enemies as well as the biggest threats to America. However, she couldn’t stop thinking about Hawk.
Before he disappeared, Hawk left Alex a note about a web-based account that he’d set up for the two of them. Instead of emailing messages back and forth to one another and risking the threat of capture, he suggested they communicate solely through writing drafts in the email account and leaving the messages unsent. By doing so, the messages would never be intercepted, allowing them to communicate as securely and discreetly as possible. The protocol was to erase the messages once the other person had read them.
Hawk had only sent two messages. The first one asked her if she’d heard anything about Shane Samuels’ status. When Hawk decided to leave, Samuels was still in a coma. And as far as she knew, Samuels still was. His tenuous health situation gave her pause before deciding to leave the U.S. Blunt assured her that he’d take care of Samuels, getting him out of the hospital to somewhere safe before they left. But that promise went unfulfilled when Samuels was mysteriously moved elsewhere. She pressed the hospital for information about Samuels’ transfer, but various nurses and supervisors denied her requests. Using her online sleuthing skills, Alex slipped into the hospital one night and asked one of the nurses for any details available on Samuels. She refused at first until Alex threatened to make public the married woman’s affair with the hospital administrator. However, the only information available about Samuels appeared in a locked file that mentioned his transfer was a matter of national security. Despite her best attempts, Alex had failed to unearth any further news on him. He could’ve died or remained in a coma—or he could’ve been walking the streets healed and healthy. There was no way of finding out, she eventually concluded. Shedecided not to let Samuels’ situation thwart her efforts to escape to Europe.
The second message Hawk sent pertained to where he planned to hide. Using a set of coordinates, he conveyed his location in the Al Hajar Mountains.
“Why would he go to Oman?” she wondered aloud when she figured out the meaning of his message before deleting it. “I guess it’s as good of a hiding place as any.”
Eight months had passed since she last read a message from Hawk, though that didn’t deter her hope that she’d someday receive one.
Alex’s daily morning routine consisted of grabbing a coffee at the corner bakery near her flat before visiting the library to check for a message from Hawk. She questioned her sanity for such a ritual. Starting each morning off with a dose of disappointment wasn’t the best way to face the day, though she reasoned that the coffee offset any sunshine sapped up by the parade of frustration. The tradeoff wasn’t necessarily a fair one, but she decided it’d have to suffice.
Mondays often seemed to be the most difficult to endure since they were the only day the bakery was closed.
“Caffeine-free disappointment, here I come,” Alex muttered to herself as she trudged toward the library. Though she’d never asked the owners why, she had pondered away many hours in search of a possible reason for why the bakery closed on Mondays.
Of all days to deprive people of such a vital sustenance . . .
A light rain peppered the city as a thick fog rolled across the water toward land. She hoisted her umbrella and continued marching toward her destination.
Once she reached the top of the steps at the library, she lowered her canopy and shook off any excess water. Upon entering the facility, she headed straight to her preferred bank of computers and started her hammering away on the keypad. She logged into her library account using the legend Blunt helped her craft, one by the name of Sarah Roberts. A normal, unmemorable name designed to help her do on
e thing and do it well—blend in.
She then typed in her username and password for her joint email account with Hawk. In order to avoid suspicion, she sent out emails most days to various businesses, oftentimes with a fake resume attached. She rarely received anything beyond a standard reply, but she never anticipated having anyone seriously reply. But this Monday, things were different.
A bold number 1, bracketed by parentheses, grabbed her attention when she glanced at her inbox. She was so accustomed to seeing a bolded zero in that spot that she did a double take to make sure what she saw was real.
Let’s see who is emailing me.
Alex furrowed her brow as she read the message. The sender’s name was listed as John Doe, and he’d written a vague note, one that she couldn’t readily interpret. She wondered if it was some sort of code or simply spam that had wormed its way into her inbox.
But nobody knows that this email address even exists.
She re-read the message again.
J'n dpnjoh gps zpv.
She shook her head as she studied the words once more. They still didn’t make sense to her, and she wasn’t immediately interested in cracking the code.
Instead of dwelling on it, she turned her attention to the draft folder, where she expected to see another empty slot. But a message with a header grabbed her attention.
“Re:URGENT” the title read.
Maybe I don’t need coffee this Monday after all.
CHAPTER 3
Muscat, Oman
HAWK WAITED UNTIL RAY left for work before rousing from the living room sofa. The first beams of sunshine trickled across the floor as Hawk made his way to the desk where he’d discovered papers he surely wasn’t meant to see. The conclusion was a logical one given that Ray had either taken the papers with him or locked them in one of the drawers. The only thing on the desk besides the keyboard and terminal was a sticky note giving Hawk instructions on how to log in to the computer as a guest.
Showing a similar distrust for Ray—and a penchant for exercising caution—Hawk carefully covered his cyber tracks as Alex had instructed him to do. He logged into their email account and composed a note for her, devoid of any salutations or extraneous words.
I wanted you to know that I’ve stumbled onto something big and I need your help. I had been planning a way to avenge our nemesis, but I’ve found something that just might be what we need to put him away for good. However, I can’t do it alone. I need to infiltrate a private security company here, but I need a new legend, one that’s rock solid online and completely believable. You’ve got one day to do it. Please respond either way to make it happen. If so, please send back a copy of my new resume for this venture as well as any other pertinent details about my new alias. I’ll explain everything more in depth at a later time.
Hawk saved the message in the draft folder and closed out of the account. Using the tricks Alex had taught him, he erased all the folders and history that would’ve logged his visit to the email inbox on the computer. He closed the computer and leaned back in his chair. All he could do was wait for Ray to return home.
* * *
A FEW MINUTES before 6:30 p.m., Ray strolled through the door, whistling an old Backstreet Boys tune. Hawk laughed to himself before speaking.
“The things we do when we don’t think anyone is watching,” Hawk said.
Ray shook his head and smiled. “I guess you finally busted me. My weakness for 90s boy bands has been exposed.”
Hawk stood up. “If I was doing psychological interrogation of a suspect, I might subject them to that garbage for 24 hours straight with no sleep. And in most cases, they’d crack. But you—”
“I’d be unbreakable,” Ray said. “And when you’d leave the room, I’d close my eyes and bounce to the beat.”
“I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m guessing your mother dropped you on the head one too many times.”
“Pardon me if my music tastes aren’t so wide-reaching and diverse as yours, Hawk. Will you still be my friend if I tell you I hate the Eagles?”
“Blasphemy,” Hawk said. “May your life in the hereafter be filled with Macarena on endless repeat.”
“I love that tune,” Ray said, thrusting his arms out to begin the song’s accompanying dance moves.
Hawk moaned. “I’m glad I left the Seals because I would’ve straight up shot you myself if you subjected me to your music at base camp.”
“At least we agree that the Dallas Cowboys are the greatest football team of all time.”
Hawk cocked his head to one side. “Yeah, about the Cowboys—”
“Oh, no. Don’t you dare tell me you gave up your love for America’s team too. If you tell me you’re a Patriots fan, I’m gonna—”
“Let’s just table this discussion for now. I can see this devolving to the point where you try to tell me Stephanie Jackson wasn’t the cutest girl in the seventh grade.”
“It was Jennifer Preston,” Ray said.
“See what I mean,” Hawk said.
They both laughed and concluded the good-natured argument with a series of high fives and fist bumps.
“So, did you talk to your boss today?” Hawk asked, abruptly changing the conversation.
“I did.”
“You didn’t tell him my name, did you?”
“Of course not, Hawk. I know how to be discreet.”
“Good because I’m going in with a new legend. I can never be too careful these days with Michaels on my tail.”
“Will you have everything in place by tomorrow at noon?”
“Of course,” Hawk said. “Is that when he wants to meet?”
Ray nodded. “He told me he’s always open to meeting new recruits, especially ones that are trained well.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate your help. All I can ask for is a chance.”
“Now it’s up to you to impress him. And let me tell you that Oliver Ackerman isn’t easily impressed. But if anybody can do it, I’m sure you can.”
* * *
HAWK AWOKE EARLY the next morning so he could check for any correspondence from Alex. He wasn’t surprised to find a complete dossier workup for a former Navy Seal named Chuck Pearl with his picture attached. With an exemplary record that would impress but not overly so, Hawk’s new legend seemed like a cinch to land him a job with Ackerman’s security firm. Hawk printed out his prepared resume and then backtracked to eliminate his digital footprint.
The sound of the printer whirring was loud, so much so that Ray stumbled out of his bedroom and into the hall.
“What’s going out here?” Ray asked as he squinted and rubbed his eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Hawk said. “I was just gathering a few things for my interview today.”
Ray grunted and marched back to his room.
Hawk studied his resume, reading and re-reading it until he felt comfortable with all the details. In concocting the cover, Alex had left as many things as possible close to the truth. Hawk grinned as he perused all the points, amazed at Alex’s attention to every element she included. Though their relationship wasn’t of the traditional or normal variety, he appreciated how Alex not only knew her way around his files, but she also knew little nuggets about him that made his dossier feel more personal.
Alex also included an entire file about the sport of cricket for Hawk to study. She noted that Ackerman was a big fan of Kieron Pollard, one of the stars for the Mumbai Indians in the Indian Premier League. Pollard was from Trinidad, where Hawk spent a few weeks one summer as a teenager rebuilding homes ravaged by a recent hurricane.
“It’ll be a great talking point,” she wrote.
Hawk agreed and did his best to catch up on the T20 version of cricket, which had supplanted the traditional test version of the game.
Cricket that doesn’t take five days to finish a match? No wonder the sport is suddenly becoming popular the world over.
Hawk immersed himself in the files to the point tha
t he almost lost track of time. A gentle nudge from Ray snapped Hawk back into the present.
“You ready?” Ray asked.
“What time is it?” Hawk looked up and asked.
“It’s eleven-thirty. We need to get going. If there’s one thing Ackerman hates, it’s tardiness.”
Hawk retrieved his resume from the pile of documents he’d printed out earlier and stood up.
“Let’s do it.”
During the car ride to the office, Ray gave Hawk as many pointers as possible, warning him about the potential pitfalls and taboo topics.
Once they arrived, they both went through a security screening that included a metal detector. Ray went first and seemed to have a good rapport with one of the guards, chatting about the previous day’s Yankees game. Hawk followed but remained silent except when questioned.
Stay under the radar. Be forgettable.
Hawk reminded himself that this position was a means to an end, the kind of end that could lead to getting his life back if managed properly.
Ray gave Hawk a cursory tour, which consisted of a brief look at the company’s warehouse, which was loaded with weapons and surveillance tech.
“Impressive,” Hawk said. “You guys look like you’re ready for an all-out assault from Iran.”
“If it comes to that, we’ll be adequately prepared,” Ray said with a sly grin.
Ray led Hawk upstairs into the suite of offices, gesturing toward the couch.
“Have a seat while I let Ackerman know you’re here.”
Hawk complied and scanned the room. A handful of women keyed in numbers at their computer terminals, while several men scurried about the room, piling up documents on the desks. The pale walls remained bare, with the exception of a few framed motivational posters about success and excellence and victory. To Hawk, the office appeared about as sterile as possible, a corporate entity without a soul.
Brady Hawk 10 - Into the Shadows Page 2
