Hawk sighed. “We’re desperate, okay? I get that. But our desperation plays right into their hands. Think about it. An agent you trust contacts you out of the blue about a mysterious recording implicating President Michaels. And we bite—hook, line, and sinker.”
Alex retied her hair up in a tight ponytail and then rested her hands on the steering wheel. “Then don’t go if you’ve got a bad feeling about it. We’ll think of something else.”
Hawk eyed her closely. “Look at me and tell me you think she’s telling the truth. If I believe you, I’ll go.”
She turned toward him and didn’t blink as she spoke. “I believe her. Everything she’s doing is exactly how I would’ve done it if I wanted to pass information outside the agency to someone who could actually do something with it.”
Hawk checked his watch. It was 6:43 p.m.
“It’s time,” he said as he opened the car door. “I’ll meet you back at the rendezvous point.”
“I’m in your ear if you need me,” she said.
Hawk fiddled with his comlink and flashed Alex a quick thumbs up before closing the door. He broke into a slow jog along one of the trails and headed directly for the ice skating rink.
The sun slipped below the tree line on the horizon as daylight had already started its slow fade. He scanned the surrounding trails for a woman wearing a neon-green headband.
There she is, right on time.
Hawk didn’t give her any discernible non-verbal signals. The key to a successful brush pass was to never make eye contact and create the illusion that any physical contact seem natural, accidental, or indiscernible to even the trained eye. As Hawk approached, he surveyed the park for any obvious signs that they were being watched. There were plenty of joggers crowding the trails, but none that appeared to be CIA operatives.
With each stride, Hawk inched closer to the center of the path in an effort to make the brush pass seamless. He had an open hand that could easily accept something the size of a flash drive. Glancing at her as they drew within thirty feet, she refused to make brief eye contact.
Hawk was sure it was his contact. The time was right. The location was right. The description was right. The chances of such an encounter being a mere coincidence seemed highly unlikely. Hawk knew this was her.
As contact appeared imminent, Hawk swung his open left hand toward her left hand. But instead of being met with a flash drive, Hawk felt nothing but a closed fist.
What the hell . . . ?
He resisted the urge to look back at her, considering that perhaps she was only reacting that way because she’d identified a tail that he hadn’t seen. Or maybe she’d set them up all along.
“Alex, we’ve got a no-go on the brush pass,” Hawk said softly.
“What happened?”
“She met me with a closed fist. Something’s not right. Are you tracking my location?”
“I’ve got you. Is anyone following you?”
Hawk took a quick glance over his shoulder. “Not that I can tell. Just a park full of joggers and walkers.”
“Okay. Just meet me at the rendezvous point.”
“See you there.”
Hawk checked the several joggers trailing him and made a mental note of their speed. Then he increased his pace as he came around a corner that left the clearing and entered a path that wove through a wooded area. A minute later, he looked over his shoulder and saw two joggers who’d maintained a safe distance but had obviously started running harder.
“I’ve got two agents trailing me,” Hawk said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Find me the next trail that twists through the woods so I can lose them.”
“Okay, just a sec,” she said. “All right, in about a quarter of a mile, you’ll come to a fork. Go left. That has plenty of cover and should help you shake them.”
“Got it.”
Hawk quickened his pace to an all out sprint as he followed Alex’s instructions. Once he went over a rise, he looked over his shoulder and saw the two agents struggling to keep pace. After they disappeared from view, he dashed off the path and hid behind a small berm. Hawk listened as the agents’ pounding footsteps passed, and then he waited for a few more seconds.
“I shook them,” Hawk said. “Give me the fastest route to the rendezvous point.”
Alex gave him directions and said she’d meet him there in five minutes.
***
ALEX PULLED INTO A PARKING SPOT and waited for Hawk. As she did, she saw Jennifer using a bench to stretch after her run. Alex looked around and walked up to her.
“What was the meaning of all this? How could you betray me like this?” Alex said.
Jennifer refused to look up. “Excuse me, but who are you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Alex scowled and scanned the parking lot again, hustling back to her car. She got inside and saw Hawk sprinting along the path toward her. She unlocked his door and he scrambled inside.
“Go! Go! Go!” he said.
She put the car in reverse and stomped on the gas. Then she jammed the car into drive and zoomed out of the parking lot, back onto the main road.
“I just talked with Jennifer,” Alex said.
“You did what?” Hawk asked.
“I saw her by the bench and asked her what was going on.”
“And?”
“She acted like she didn’t know who I was.”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Hawk said.
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “I think she was protecting us.”
CHAPTER 29
BACK AT THEIR APARTMENT, Hawk wrestled with the idea that Jennifer refused the brush pass because she was protecting them. He’d identified a pair of CIA agents and had to shake them. Based on Alex’s conversation with Jennifer, she might have been paranoid or she might have been setting them up. While Hawk was pleased they’d managed to escape, he returned to general distrust in people . . . especially anyone working at the agency.
“I’ve known Jennifer for a long time,” Alex said. “I just have a hard time believing anything other than the best about her.”
“People change, you know?”
“I’m well aware of that, but that whole situation just seemed off. I mean, why didn’t she bring the flash drive to you the first time you two met?”
Alex sighed. “She was being careful.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t trust you as much as you trust her.”
“Just give it up, Hawk. What’s done is done, but it’s certainly not over.”
Hawk paced around the room. “If you’re considering making contact with her again and trying to set up another exchange, count me out.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“When we met, Jennifer mentioned that she had a copy of the recorded conversation on her home computer.”
“So, you want to break in and steal it?”
“Why not? I know where she lives, and I’m confident I can hack into her computer.”
Hawk pensively stared out the window before responding. “If you think you can hack in, I’ll do it. But if she is being straight with us, I’d hate to implicate her.”
“We’ll all go down together if that’s the case. But the reality is you and I will get jailed—or worse—no matter what because we’ve already been branded as traitors.”
“At this point, I don’t think we really have a choice.”
“Great. Let’s do it while she’s at work tomorrow morning.”
Access to Jennifer’s apartment required a key card, making their operation dependent upon sneaking in with an unsuspecting resident. Alex had visited Jennifer there before and explained to Hawk that it was a complex full of working professionals.
“We’ll need to find someone who rarely leaves the apartment to pull this off,” Hawk said. “Think you can dig up a list of tenants?”
“You bet,” Alex said.
A hal
f hour later, she had a list of all the tenants and their ages. Hawk and Alex studied them before agreeing that Betty Norton, an eighty-five-year-old widow who lived on the same floor as Jennifer, was the best way into the building. A quick online search found that Mrs. Norton spent plenty of time using social media and apparently loved her poodle and several cats.
***
THE NEXT MORNING, Hawk and Alex both donned clothes that looked close enough to delivery uniforms to fool an elderly lady. Hawk admitted that he hated tricking Mrs. Norton, but it was all about the cause and ultimately wouldn’t harm her.
After parking along the road in front of the apartment, Alex went to work, putting the security cameras on a one-hour loop.
“We’ve got sixty minutes,” she said. “Let’s get moving.”
Hawk entered Mrs. Norton’s number and waited.
“Hello?” she said as she answered.
“Mrs. Norton, this is Mike from FedEx. I have a package for you.”
She hesitated. “I-I wasn’t expecting a package. Who is it from?”
“The label doesn’t say, just an address,” Hawk answered.
“Well, I don’t want it then.”
Hawk sighed and thought quickly. “Oh, wait. The side of the box has the logo of a pet store on it.”
“Well, all right. I guess you can bring it up. Just leave it outside my door.”
“Good thinking,” Alex said as the door buzzed and she followed Hawk inside.
“I was starting to worry that we were going to get stonewalled by her. But . . . cats and dogs. Those little animals hold a power over most people.”
“Cats win . . . because of all the internet videos.”
“Those hold a strange power over everyone.”
They took the elevator to the fifth floor and set the box down at the foot of Mrs. Norton’s door as she requested. Hawk knocked on the door, and they hustled down the hall toward the stairwell. He and Alex waited there until she collected the box and shut the door.
“Okay, it’s safe,” Hawk said, gesturing for Alex to join him.
They walked up to Jennifer’s door, and Hawk picked the lock.
“We’re in,” he said, swinging the door open.
Alex entered Jennifer’s apartment and scanned it for a home computer. In less than a minute, Alex located a tidy desk in the corner containing only a keyboard and a large computer screen.
“We’re down to forty-five minutes,” Hawk said. “Do you think you can find the file in that amount of time?”
“Piece of cake.”
Hawk paced around the room as Alex worked. After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “Is this how you feel when I’m on an op?”
“What? Nervous?”
“I’m anxious. I just want you to finish up so we can get out of here safely.”
“Yep, every single time.”
Alex kept pounding away on the keyboard, making various sounds as she worked. Moans, groans, excited exclamations, pounding the desk. Each time, it made Hawk jump. After his tenth overreaction to a noise she made, Alex looked up and glared at him.
“You need to stop.”
“I know, but all your sounds are making me nervous. We’re down to fifteen minutes now.”
“I’m almost there. Just be patient, okay? And chill out. Besides, I just found the file. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Great,” Hawk said.
He heard hushed voices and footsteps in the hallway. Quietly, he crept over to the door and looked through the peephole. Outside, a man and a woman, who both appeared to be CIA agents, opened a small case used to hold tools for picking a lock.
Hawk rushed back across the room to Alex. “They’re outside,” he whispered. “We’ve got to hide now.”
“But I’m not quite done copying the file.”
“It’ll have to wait,” Hawk said, grabbing Alex by the arm.
They backed into a closet and kept the door cracked so they could see what was going on. Hawk watched the blue light on the flash drive blinking, indicating it was still copying.
Across the room, Hawk heard the door handle begin to jiggle and click.
CHAPTER 30
Dubai, United Arab Emirates
KARIF FAZIL STEWED AS HE WATCHED a special report on CNN International divulge all the details about the Saudi Arabian special forces raid that killed Malik Bashir and captured his entire cache of weapons. While the information held little new information for Fazil, he felt embarrassment over his inability to detect his initial contacts weren’t Bashir’s men. The fact that they didn’t shoot Fazil on the spot let him know that something out of the ordinary happened that day. Whatever it was, Fazil didn’t care. He’d survived.
It was a sign from Allah that I am to continue waging jihad against the west.
He poured himself a drink and lit a cigar, turning off the television and instead retreating to the balcony overlooking the ocean. The sun sparkled off the waves and almost made him forget what he’d been so upset about.
His phone buzzed. It was Mohammed Nasir, the man who’d volunteered to attend the wedding in Fazil’s place.
“How’s the wedding?” Fazil asked.
“Fine. Maloof isn’t too happy you couldn’t make it.”
Fazil smiled. “I hope you passed along my regrets.”
“I did, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He was pretty upset.”
“Just enjoy yourself. I’ll smooth things over with him later.”
Fazil hung up and took in the view again. After draining his glass, he picked up his phone to call Cyrus Black.
“Is everything in place?” Fazil asked.
“Has anyone seen you in the past twenty-four hours?” Cyrus responded, ignoring Fazil.
“I’m maintaining a low profile, don’t worry.”
Cyrus didn’t respond immediately.
“What is it, Cyrus?”
“What are those sounds I hear?”
Fazil tapped his cigar on the ashtray. “Perhaps the sound of the ocean.”
“Are you walking on the beach?”
“Of course not. I’m on my balcony way above the water.”
“Get inside now,” Cyrus growled. “I hear people talking as well. If anyone sees you . . .” The second half of his statement was left unsaid but was very much understood.
Fazil rolled over out of his chair and shuffled inside, closing the door behind. “I’m inside now. No worries.”
“Did you enter your penthouse how I instructed?”
“I avoided the lobby and made sure Fatima paraded through the entrance and announced that she’d be staying there for a while.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. My cousin is very fickle. She’s probably out partying with her friends.”
Cyrus chuckled. “I guess millennials are the same no matter what country they’re from.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Look, the most important thing is that you’ve avoided detection so far and everybody thinks any activity in the apartment is your cousin, not you.”
“In the words of George W. Bush, mission accomplished,” Fazil said, conjuring up his best Texas accent.
Cyrus didn’t laugh. “This isn’t a joke. Don’t get arrogant and make the same mistake Bush made.”
“Don’t worry yourself there, cowboy,” Fazil said continuing his put-on drawl. “We won’t celebrate until we have vanquished our enemies.”
“That won’t happen unless everyone truly believes you’re dead,” Cyrus warned.
Fazil became serious again. “I will be careful. Don’t worry. Now, were my dental records replaced with Mohammed Nasir’s?”
“The work was flawless. No one will suspect it isn’t you once they sift through the rubble.”
“Excellent. And when will this attack occur in Mirabad?”
“Half an hour from now. I’m sending you a link where you can watch a video feed of the wedding live over the internet.”
<
br /> Fazil puffed on his cigar again. “How did you arrange that?”
“I have my ways. And I’m sending you the link you can watch over the internet from a secure browser. Happy viewing.”
Cyrus hung up, and Fazil let out a long breath. He’d always imagined there would come a day when he wouldn’t have to run from the U.S. And it was almost as he pictured it, freedom arriving in death. He just never thought he’d be alive to see it.
Fazil grabbed his laptop and opened a secure browser as Cyrus had instructed. He typed in the address Cyrus had sent and waited. Seconds later, a digitized image appeared without any sound. The wedding ceremony was underway, and Fazil identified Nasir attending in his place. With the low quality video feed, Fazil couldn’t tell if Maloof was smiling or frowning, though he imagined it was the former if he was truly happy about his cousin’s marriage. But ultimately, Fazil didn’t care. He was only watching to see one thing.
After ten more minutes passed full of traditional ceremony acts, Fazil’s phone buzzed with a message.
1 more minute
For Fazil, the seconds seemed to creep by, moving at the pace of a burial casket on the way to its final resting place. But Fazil saw this moment as a second chance, the kind he needed to become immortalized among the great jihadists in world history.
As Fazil watched, he noticed several people pointing to the sky, and then the crowd began to scatter frantically. However, none of them escaped the wrath of the Hellfire missiles unleashed by the drone. In an instant, the feed went dark. Moments later, Fazil received another text message.
Direct hit — no likely survivors
Fazil got up and poured himself another drink.
Who knew being dead ever felt so good?
CHAPTER 31
Washington, D.C.
HAWK PULLED HIS GUN out and prepared for the worst as the rattling at the door continued for a brief moment before it stopped. He leaned toward the opening, straining to hear what was going on. He heard muffled voices in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Alex asked.
“I’m not sure,” Hawk said. “Stay here. I’m going to see if I can hear what’s happening.”
Brady Hawk 07 - State of Play Page 11
