Joe Hawke Series Boxsets 4

by Rob Jones

  “Yes, the last ring should be even simpler to secure, or at least to borrow temporarily.”

  “How so?” Scarlet said.

  “According to Ali, the Ring of Sudas is in the possession of the American military in Camp Angel, outside of Baghdad.”

  “I didn’t think there were any US soldiers in Iraq anymore,” Lexi said.

  “Over five thousand of them,” Zeke said immediately. “The Victory Base Complex near the airport was a major military camp until 2011 when we officially pulled out. Last I heard the Iraqi Government wanted to turn it into some kind of university.”

  “So the rumors go,” Eden said.

  “Near the airport, you say?” Lexi asked.

  “Yes. It’s inside the Al-Faw Palace,” Eden said. “It’s an enormous building in Baghdad built by Saddam Hussein in the nineties to commemorate an Iraqi victory during the Iran-Iraq war and as Zeke says, up until 2011 it was occupied by the US military as a logistics facility.”

  “And today?”

  “It’s very hard to get detailed information out of Iraq,” Eden said. “But a trusted CIA contact has confirmed Ali’s intel. He tells me that there is a small US contingent in the palace, unknown to the general public. They’re probably working alongside the Iraqis as they establish the university there, but that’s of no concern to us because also not available to the public is the neat little fact that Saddam had vaults built into its basement in order to stash various treasures for his own personal use. Thanks to Ali, and my CIA contact, I can tell you that the last ring is among those treasures.”

  “Getting hotter!” Lexi said, unable to conceal her excitement.

  “You said borrow?” Lea rarely missed detail.

  “I think it’s unlikely General Tucker will allow any of the treasures off the site, and I would doubt appealing to the Iraqi Minister of the Interior will help either.”

  “Great.”

  “And we can’t risk losing an easy opportunity to secure the ring because of frankly unimportant concerns. If we know about these rings, then so must the Oracle. From now on it’s just a race against time to see who gets to them first, which is why you’re all on a plane to Baghdad as of an hour ago, got it?”

  “Why not get President Brooke to get us the ring?” Lexi asked. “It’s in US custody after all.”

  “First, it’s not in US custody – not officially. It’s in Iraqi custody, and…” Eden paused, and they all saw something was on his mind. “I didn’t want to brief you on this until this mission was over, but it looks like things are getting too serious across the pond to keep you in the dark any more. I know you’re aware of vague talk of a coup, but it’s worse than we thought. I had a communiqué from Alex Reeve earlier today in which she outlined to me what looks like a full-scale coup against President Brooke.”

  “Holy shit,” Lea said. “Who’s behind this?”

  “It’s confirmed now. Vice President Davis Faulkner.”

  Hawke blinked, unable to believe what he had just heard. “So she wasn’t being paranoid then?”

  Eden shook his head. “It doesn’t look like it. Agent Brandon McGee has become a trusted friend of hers and he briefed her on the coup after receiving intel on it from another trusted source, an Agent Suzie Matsumoto.”

  Reaper twirled a cigarette paper in his calloused, nicotine-stained fingers. “Who is she?”

  “Matsumoto is an agent with the US Secret Service attached to the Vice President’s protection team.”

  “Mon Dieu…”

  Zeke was sitting up now, and dropped the empty beer bottle on the carpet as he slid off the bed and walked closer to the plasma screen. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No joke,” Eden said. “I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t believe it,” he wandered over to the window and stared blankly out at the setting sun. “A coup?”

  “Technically not,” Eden countered. “They’re invoking a special amendment in the Constitution to force the President out of the Oval Office, but it for all intents and purposes it adds up to the same thing because it’s totally bogus. Brooke has done nothing wrong.”

  “Is this an episode of the Outer Limits?” Zeke said quietly.

  “No,” Lexi said. “Welcome to a day in the life of ECHO.”

  Nikolai had kept his counsel, but now his low Russian grumble filled the room. “Is this Faulkner operating alone?”

  All eyes turned to him. Eden spoke first. “We don’t know. What are you suggesting?”

  The Russian monk shrugged. “Nothing. Just that the Oracle and Faulkner are… how shall I say – acquainted with one another.”

  His words shocked the entire team. “Davis Faulkner knows the Oracle?” Hawke asked. “How?”

  “He is an acolyte, but other than this I know nothing more than what I have said. I was too low in the food chain.”

  Hawke, still blindsided by the revelation that Otmar Wolff and Davis Faulkner were associates, walked to the window and worked hard to consider the consequences. It explained the attack on Jack Brooke for one thing, and it meant the future was likely storing up even more trouble for the ECHO team. Now, more than ever, time was of the essence.

  “We’re getting closer now, Rich,” Lea said. “I know it sounds callous but we have to focus on our mission here in the Middle East. We’re going to need the idols.”

  “No problem,” Eden said. “I’ll have them flown out to you from London on a Royal Air Force transport plane at once.”

  With Eden’s words hanging in the air, Hawke turned and faced his team. “All right then, it’s time to cross the border. We’re going to Iraq.”

  *

  Jessica Clarke looked down at the screen of her iPhone and sighed when she saw the caller ID: PEGASUS, a.k.a. her pain-in-the-ass boss Tony Garcetti.

  She took the call. “What is it?”

  “You’re flying to Iraq.”

  “Iraq?” Jessica asked. “What the hell are they doing in Iraq?”

  “Don’t ask me, Cougar,” Garcetti said. “I’m just passing orders down from the organ grinder to the monkey. Brand new intel hot off the press.”

  “You’re the monkey, Garcetti.”

  “I’m starting to believe it.”

  She cut the call and sighed. Looked at her bag, all packed with weapons and ammo and ready to go. Same old same old. A note for Mrs Kowalczyk asking her to check on Matty. A drive to the airport. An unmarked government jet. Bland men in sombre suits and ear pieces checking her ID. A long, tiring flight and then a hunt in the desert for the next target on her list. Another new home for the next bullet in the box.

  But then, Mexico.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Baghdad was not as Hawke remembered it. During the war when he was last in the country, the city was a very different place. The place he had left behind was mostly a shelled ruin, broken down by artillery fire and bombing runs of over a thousand sorties per day. Citizens cowered in their homes and prayed to see another day, while he and the rest of his covert Special Forces unit moved through the city’s underground searching for senior members of the Republican Guard.

  Today, peace had just about reasserted itself on the beleaguered, ancient city. Luxury cars adorned many streets and he even saw a pleasure boat sailing up the Tigris. Young people laughed as they walked along the sidewalks, shaded by date palms and in no rush to go anywhere in particular.

  The contrast between some of the horrors he had witnessed during the war and the apparent serenity of today could not have been starker. No more fear of kidnap for foreigners walking the streets, but instead a wide range of glittering shopping malls and nightclubs and smiling street vendors offering masgouf from carefully positioned food carts.

  How people move on, he thought.

  “What the hell is that?” Lexi asked, spying one of the carts.

  “Grilled carp,” Hawke said. “It’s usually very good.”

  He checked the SUV’s satnav was still correlating with the researc
h he had done earlier on what he had called a proper paper map. Something no one could hack or track them on. All was good, and they were nearing their first destination in good time.

  “Are we there yet?” Scarlet asked in the style of Bart Simpson.

  Lea rolled her eyes. “Really?”

  “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

  “The answer is yes,” Hawke said, glancing at the satnav as he powered the SUV across another wide junction. “It’s just up ahead a little on the right.”

  They turned onto Nasir Street and the Iraqi Museum loomed quickly into view. Heavily looted during the invasion of 2003, many of its ancient artefacts were never returned and the museum wasn’t formally reopened to the public until twelve years later in 2015.

  As they drew nearer, the impressive crenelated towers that formed the façade shone brightly in the Iraqi sun, obscured here and there by enormous palms placed either side of the main entrance. They cruised past the impressive building as they drew closer to their destination, but as they drove deeper into the city, things began to change again.

  Away from the richer central district, the outer regions began to resemble what Hawke had seen back during the war. Concrete blast walls covered in graffiti, wrecked cars jacked-up on the side of the road and trash cans rolling on their sides in the hot desert wind.

  “So this is where Professor al-Hashimi hangs out.” Lea’s voice was full of uncertainty.

  “According to Rich, yes,” Hawke said, glancing once again at the satnav.

  “Thought a university guy would earn more.”

  Hawke pulled the car up outside the house and turned to the rear. “Okay, this is where we split so have fun kids. Mum, Dad and Uncle Reaper are going to speak to the nice General, while you guys have a chat with the prof. We’ll meet here in an hour.”

  “An hour?” Scarlet said.

  “Things have to be even faster now because of Ryan.”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth,” Reaper said, opening the door to let the others out. Scarlet, Lexi, Zeke and Nikolai climbed out into the street and a rush of hot air blew into the SUV’s interior, bringing a taste of dust and diesel fumes.

  The burly Frenchman climbed back in and slammed the door. Leaning one elbow out of the window, he lit his cigarette as Scarlet turned, shades flashing in the sun’s glare. “One hour, oui?”

  “Last one back’s a rotten egg, lads,” she said.

  *

  General Braxton Tucker was a broad-chested, tall man with a tanned, rectangular face and a short scar running down from the corner of his left eye. Wearing his camouflaged US Army combat uniform, he tossed his pen down on the desk and rose to greet the visitors to Camp Angel.

  Lea took her seat first, then Hawke and Reaper joined her. “Thanks for seeing us, sir.”

  “I was intrigued when I got the call from the DOD,” he said. “You want to access to the collection of relics we store here on site, is that right?”

  “It is.”

  “Never been asked that before.”

  Still no hint of a smile.

  “Is it something you’d consider?” she asked.

  “I’ve already considered it, and I can’t see any problem why you can’t see the item in question and borrow it for one week. After that I want it back on site or I’m coming to get you, no kidding around.”

  “We understand.”

  “You’re all vets, is that right?”

  Hawke nodded. “Former Royal Marines Commandos and SBS.”

  “And I’m former Irish Rangers.”

  “What about you?” he said to the silent Frenchman.

  “Foreign Legion,” was all he said.

  He gave an appreciative nod. “One week, as I say.”

  “That’s all we need.”

  “To find this archaeological site?”

  Lea nodded. “That’s right. We think it could be the archaeological find of the century.”

  “I couldn’t care less about old pots and pans and fossils,” he said bluntly. “I couldn’t care less about this place, either. I’m not even supposed to be here. Hell, I’m not here officially. If I can help out a bunch of relic diggers then fine.”

  “Is the ring on public display?” Lea asked.

  “No,” Tucker said. “The relics, including the ring are not kept in the public section of the palace and never have been. Certain items, mostly those from the very distant past such as the Sumerian age, have always been kept under lock and key. First, by the British, then by Saddam Hussein and now by the new Iraqi Government.”

  “Why?” Lea asked.

  “Because they would raise too many questions,” Reaper said flatly. “That’s why – right, General?”

  Tucker nodded, but was reluctant to go further. “Yes, I think our Legionnaire friend is right when he says this. Certain special antiquities raise more questions than they answer when it comes to understanding our history and where we all come from. It is always easier to crush the truth than to shine light upon it. Now, I’ll make the call.”

  Less than a minute after he hung up, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come!”

  A stocky man in combat fatigues walked in and snapped to attention, giving the general a sharp salute.

  “At ease, captain.”

  “Sir.”

  “This is Captain Benning. He’ll take you to the secure area where our little hoard is retained on behalf of the Iraqi Government. As you heard from the phone call, Benning’s been fully briefed on the situation and knows you’re to have the item in question for one week only, and that’s only happening because the Pentagon personally intervened on the President’s orders.”

  Lea stood up. “Thank you, General Tucker. You’ll have your relic back in Al-Faw in one week.”

  Hawke and Reaper stood up and shook hands with the general.

  “Good luck,” Tucker said.

  *

  Professor Qasim al-Hashimi was sitting on his balcony when Scarlet and the others walked up outside his house in the Kadhimya District. Just three miles from the city center, the area was rich in history with intricate shrines and ornate mosques lining its twisting, dusty streets.

  “I was most interested when I received the call from your people,” he said as he showed them inside his home. “The ring is one of my more recent discoveries. I found it in an excavation only a year or so ago in northern Iran and while it has intrigued me I have not spent much time on it. I am so busy with my research work at the university.”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned, slipping his hands out of his pockets and adjusting the wire-rim spectacles on his hose. “You mentioned something about it forming some sort of map?”

  “So I’m told,” she said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I’m really just more of a hired hand.”

  He looked amused. “Well, it’s just through here.”

  They followed him along the narrow corridor and into a small room at the back of the first floor. Frayed rug on the floor, tattered throw over worn leather couch. Ceiling fan swirling above their heads. Black shadows from the sun streaked through an old plantation shutter on the open window and striped the wall above the desk.

  Qasim walked into the room and tripped over a pile of journals on the floor. He stopped himself from going over by grabbing onto Scarlet’s arm. “Sorry… I need to tidy, I know.”

  Lexi’s eyes danced over the heaps of books and junk all over the small room. “You can find the ring, right?”

  He opened an old coffee chest beside the desk and reached inside. Out in the heat, a long and powerful adhan drifted over the city, called by a muezzin from some distant minaret. Qasim turned to face them with a beaming smile on his face, and in his hand he held what they had flown around the world for.

  The Ring of Sedus.

  “Is this what you seek, friends?”

  “It sure as shit looks like it!” Zeke said.

  Lexi frowned. “Excuse the he
lp, Professor,” she said.

  The Texan laughed and slapped her on the back, almost bowling her over. “The help! I love it.”

  Nikolai said nothing, but kept his eyes focused on the ring.

  “That is what we’re looking for, Professor,” Scarlet said.

  He sucked hard on a Pine cigarette before blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. “I’m glad it is what you are looking for, but from now on we travel together. If there is a Land of the Gods to be found, I must be there when it is discovered.”

  *

  Deep in the Al-Faw Palace, Captain Benning ordered a soldier to unlock the vault door and switch on the light. The room was unremarkable and like any other storage space they had seen – cool stone walls and electric strip lights painting everything the color of old lemons. Padlocked chests and crates were stacked in neat lines across the room, forming aisles they were able to walk down as they followed the young captain through to the long room.

  After a few moments working out where he was, Benning stared at the paper in his hand and then glanced up at a number sprayed on the stone wall. “This is the section, right here. Looks like you’re about to get what you’re searching for.”

  Hawke and Lea caught each other’s eye.

  The quest was nearly over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Stand down, marine!”

  The US Marine sentry outside the Oval Office looked nervously at the Vice President of the United States and the men behind him. Faulkner held his ground, knowing what the young man must be thinking. Along with the Secret Service, he was charged with the responsibility of protecting the life of the President, and yet here was the Vice President and several members of the US Cabinet, and they were accompanied by their own Secret Service and other marines.

  “You were told to stand down!” barked General Patterson.

  In the face of an angry four star general, the marine folded like a deck chair, standing down and lowering his weapon.

  Without waiting another second, Faulkner opened the door of the anteroom and marched through into the Oval Office. Flanked by Patterson and several other senior military personnel he made an awesome sight as he approached the President.