They hustled down the hallway and then came to a stop when they heard gunfire from around the corner.
“What are you doing, Hawk?” Alex asked. “We can’t contemplate this. We need to run now or we’re not going to make it.”
Hawk wasn’t afraid of the shooting. His eyes were locked in on an abandoned cart in the hallway.
“Get on, Mr. President,” Hawk said, nodding toward the makeshift vehicle. “If we’re going to make it out alive, I’m gonna have to help you.”
Young hoisted one of his legs on the top shelf of the cart, while Hawk and Alex steadied the wheels. When the president was stabilized, Hawk started pushing. As he rounded the corner, he saw two guards firing at Secret Service members. He nodded at Alex and mouthed for her to take the guy on the right.
They fired two shots each, felling the Obsidian agents. “Don’t shoot,” Hawk cried. “They’re both dead.”
As they rounded the corner, the Secret Service agents holstered their weapons and rushed over to President Young.
Hawk waved them away. “We don’t have time for this. The building is about to explode. Run for the exits, and don’t look back.”
All the men complied but one, who joined Hawk in pushing Young down the hallway. When they reached the doors, Hawk helped Young, carrying him with the assistance of the other agent. They hustled down the steps and rushed outside.
Hawk had a clock ticking in his head.
Five . . . four . . . three . . .
His feet were moving as fast as he could as he scanned the area for some sort of cover from the explosion. He eyed the guardhouse near the edge of the fence as a place to protect them from the blast. Steering Young toward the structure, they all fell in line. Hawk shielded Alex, while the other agents gathered around Young.
Two . . . one . . .
CHAPTER 32
Washington, D.C.
THE WIND WHISTLED PAST Titus Black as he descended toward the ground in a free fall. A HALO jump was deemed the best way to approach the outpost where J.D. Black’s niece, Morgan, was being held by Sinclair’s henchmen. While Blunt was away in Europe, tending to Hawk’s and Alex’s issues, Blunt received a report from one of his contacts at the NSA detailing the exact location of Blunt’s niece.
When Black’s feet hit the ground, he rolled, spreading out the impact from his fall. He gathered up his parachute and hid it beneath a rock. It was only 4:00 a.m. in New Mexico, a half-hour drive from the entrance to Carlsbad Cavern National Park—and 6:00 a.m. in Washington, where J.D. Blunt was wide awake and watching the whole operation from the Phoenix Foundation headquarters via Black’s body camera.
Black made his way along a dirt road, one utilized only by ranchers and recreational thrill seekers who liked to roar across vast stretches of unpopulated land on their motorcycles. But at this time of morning, the only things roaming around were rats and rattlesnakes.
On a distant hill, Black saw the silhouette of the small clapboard house. Not a single light shone, which wasn’t shocking. He was certain electricity wasn’t available in such a remote place.
As he approached the house, he didn’t notice any guards outside. He circled the structure twice before deciding to go inside. The wooden steps creaked as he approached as stealthily as possible. However, the sounds must’ve been loud enough to wake Morgan’s hostage taker.
The thump, thump, thump from inside the house vibrated the porch where Black was standing. He trained his gun in front of him and prepared for it to swing open. Seconds later when it did, Black smashed the man’s hand, sending his gun flying.
Black put two bullets in the man before rushing inside. He found Morgan curled up in a fetal position, her tear-stained cheeks glistening beneath the glow of his flashlight.
“It’s all right,” Black said. “You’re safe now. Your uncle sent me. In fact, he’s watching right now.”
Morgan embraced Black and began sobbing. He dug some clothes out of his pack and gave them to her along with some privacy to change. While she was putting on more appropriate attire for the cool temperatures outside, Black called Blunt.
“If you were watching, you know I’ve got her,” Black said.
“I know,” Blunt said, his voice quivering. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again.”
“You will soon enough. Just let the pilot know that he needs to get the plane gassed up and ready to go. We’ll be ready to leave in half an hour.”
“You got it, champ,” Blunt said before he hung up.
When Morgan was finished, Black led her outside, warning her to watch her step as the hostile’s body lay lifeless on the porch. He stepped over the corpse and held his hand out to help her. She froze and then spit on him before stomping on his head.
“Take that,” she said before calling him a whole slew of names as she repeatedly kicked him.
Black grabbed her and bear-hugged her, pulling her away from the body. “It’s okay now. He’s gone, and you’re safe.”
She broke down again and started crying. Black carried her over to the man’s Jeep and placed her in the passenger seat before hustling around to the driver’s side. He ignited the engine with the twist of the key and roared off toward the airport.
* * *
A HALF HOUR LATER, Blunt hung up with Black, who reported that they’d safely arrived at the airport and were preparing for takeoff. For the first time in over two weeks, Blunt felt like he could breathe. He clipped off the end of a cigar and jammed it into his mouth. While too early to drink a celebratory toast, he wouldn’t wait long before popping open one of his favorite bourbon bottles.
He thanked Shields for her help during the mission and returned to his office. On his desk, he found a piping hot cup of coffee and the morning’s paper. He had just settled in to read about the upcoming G8 summit when his phone rang.
“This is Blunt,” he said as he answered.
“Well, Mr. Blunt,” said Falcon Sinclair, “I wanted to let you know that I’ve decided not to keep my end of the bargain since you broke yours.”
“I broke our bargain? What are you talking about?”
“I told you if you tried to dissuade the president from coming with me that your niece would be killed.”
“And I never breathed a word to him about it,” Blunt said. “All I did was encourage him to go.”
“As well as send a team after him.”
“You think I’m just going to let you take President Young on some joy ride and not at least have an eye on him? Think again.”
“No matter,” Sinclair said. “It’s your niece who will pay the price. She’s such a sweet young woman. I hate to have to needlessly take her life, but there are consequences. And what kind of man would I be if I didn’t keep my word?”
“Well, seeing that your kidnapper couldn’t keep Morgan and is dead in the New Mexico desert, I doubt you can keep your word in this case. But I promise, I won’t hold it against you.”
“You’re gonna pay for this.”
“No,” Blunt said, “I’m gonna have my men hunt you down and kill you like they did Osama bin Laden or Saddam Hussein. Better watch your back.”
Blunt hung up and smiled. He couldn’t wait to hear from Hawk and find out how they’d managed to rattle Sinclair so much.
CHAPTER 33
Rutland Island, Indian Ocean
HAWK WATCHED THE OBSIDIAN facility implode, turning the entire building into a raging inferno. He urged everyone to their feet and directed them farther away from the perimeter. They ran, refusing to stop until they found a spot behind a small hill. Alex grabbed his hand as a pair of missiles rained down on the compound, turning what was left of it into little more than ash.
“I thought we weren’t gonna make it,” she said in a hushed tone to Hawk.
“When we’re together, I never count us out, even when the odds are stacked against us,” he said.
President Young turned to Hawk. “Thank you for coming after me. If you hadn’t, I don’t know—”
/>
The president stopped, unable to find the words. A tear streaked down his face.
“It’s all right to cry, Mr. President,” Alex said. “That was terribly traumatic.”
“I’m not crying about what happened today,” Young said. “I’m crying about Madeline.”
Hawk helped Young stand, and they started down the road back toward the tent in silence. Alex finally put her arm around him.
“It’s always tough when we lose someone,” she said.
“That’s the thing,” Young said. “I didn’t really lose her. She left.”
Hawk drew back, eying Young carefully. “What do you mean?”
Does he know?
“According to Falcon Sinclair, Madeline helped set up the bombing on the White House,” Young said. “Apparently, she’s living it up by a pool somewhere in some tropical paradise. And I’ve been played for a fool.”
“Do you want us to track her down?” Hawk asked.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. If she wanted out of our marriage, she didn’t need to be a traitor to do it. I just wish she would’ve at least talked to me about it.”
“So, what next?” Hawk asked. “I will relish the opportunity to go after Falcon Sinclair. And it’ll be our pleasure to deliver his dead body to you.”
Young sighed. “As much as I’d like that right now, we must remain singular in our focus and capture Evana Bahar.”
“But the truth is that she wasn’t even responsible for the bombing at the White House,” Alex said.
“That doesn’t matter. Perception is reality in today’s world. And if you listen to all the pundits and commentators out there, I’m weak on national security. I need a win there something fierce. You two think you can deliver that for me?”
Hawk nodded and glanced at Alex. “She certainly deserves to be held accountable for her crimes against our country.”
“Good,” Young said. “I’ll consider it done. And once you finish with her, I want you to raze Falcon Sinclair’s entire empire.”
“Of course, Mr. President,” Hawk said. “It’ll be my honor to finish that job for you.”
When they returned to the tent, they contacted the president’s team in Kuala Lumpur to discreetly alert them to what had happened while they were gone. A helicopter was ordered to retrieve the president. The pilot notified Hawk that he’d return shortly to pick up everyone else along with their equipment.
After the chopper disappeared on the horizon, Hawk turned to Mia. “We need to talk.”
“Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she said. “And I’m sorry. The president seems like a good man who cares about his people. I let my rage take over—and I know it put many lives at risk.”
“Not just many lives—the life of the President of the United States,” Hawk said.
“I know, I know. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
Hawk cocked his head to one side. “Again? What makes you think you’ll be asked to assist us in the future?”
“Please, won’t you?” Mia asked, clasping her hands together as if she were about to offer a prayer “This venture has made me realize that I need to put my talent to work for something worthwhile, something that actually helps keep people safe, not just ruins the lives of others who I deem to be evil.”
“I’m not sure we can trust you,” Alex said.
“You can,” Mia shot back emphatically. “I won’t let you down again. I swear.”
“Well, we’re not the decision makers when it comes to who partners with us on our missions, but I might put in a kind word for you if you’re serious,” Hawk said.
“Yes, please do,” Mia said. “This was one incredible operation. If it’s like this all the time, I can’t wait to join your team.”
Hawk shrugged. “We’ll see what the boss has to say about it. In the meantime, let’s get everything together. I can’t wait to get off this island.”
* * *
HAWK ENTERED THE Phoenix Foundation headquarters three days later with Alex. They convened in the conference room to discuss the recent mission. Blunt was already gnawing on a cigar when he started the discussion.
“We’re all here,” Blunt said. “And at this point, that might be the most important thing.”
“Being alive is good,” Alex said.
“But we’re not done yet,” Hawk said. “Not by a long shot.”
“No, we’re not,” Blunt said. “But I just received a bit of intel this morning regarding Al Fatihin’s next big strike.”
“I know that’s not what you want to do right now,” Hawk said.
Blunt shook his head. “No, it’s not. I want to put Sinclair in a vice and grind him until he shatters into a million pieces. But that’ll have to wait. We need to get a win for the president. And then we’re going to obliterate Falcon Sinclair and Obsidian.”
THE END
To keep reading in the Titus Black series, order the next book EXTREME MEASURES here.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to so many people who have helped with the creation of this project and the entire Brady Hawk series.
Krystal Wade was a big help in editing this book as always.
I would also like to thank my advance reader team for all their input in improving this book along with all the other readers who have enthusiastically embraced the story of Brady Hawk. Stay tuned ... there's more Brady Hawk coming soon.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R.J. PATTERSON is an award-winning writer living in southeastern Idaho. He first began his illustrious writing career as a sports journalist, recording his exploits on the soccer fields in England as a young boy. Then when his father told him that people would pay him to watch sports if he would write about what he saw, he went all in. He landed his first writing job at age 15 as a sports writer for a daily newspaper in Orangeburg, S.C. He later attended earned a degree in newspaper journalism from the University of Georgia, where he took a job covering high school sports for the award-winning Athens Banner-Herald and Daily News.
He later became the sports editor of The Valdosta Daily Times before working in the magazine world as an editor and freelance journalist. He has won numerous writing awards, including a national award for his investigative reporting on a sordid tale surrounding an NCAA investigation over the University of Georgia football program.
R.J. enjoys the great outdoors of the Northwest while living there with his wife and four children. He still follows sports closely.
He also loves connecting with readers and would love to hear from you. To stay updated about future projects, connect with him over Facebook or on the interwebs at www.RJPbooks.com and sign up here for his newsletter to get deals and updates.
Divide and Conquer
© Copyright 2019 R.J. Patterson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First eBook Edition 2019
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Published in the United States of America
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Table of Contents
What Others are Saying about R.J. Patterson
Other titles by R.J. Patterson
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter
3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Acknowledgments
Newsletter
About the Author
Copyright Information
Brady Hawk 19 - Divide and Conquer Page 16
