Any Means Necessary

by R. J. Patterson

“Avatars with low-cut shirts and big busts,” Alex said. “They’re absolutely irresistible, aren’t they?”

  Thurston sneered at Alex and then looked away.

  “You’re going to have to face the music,” Hawk said. “We know you were the one behind all this.”

  “It wasn’t me. I swear,” Thurston said.

  Hawk fished Thurston’s phone out of his pocket and depressed his thumb to the security button. When the home screen vanished, Hawk handed the phone to Alex. She swiped over to the video game and opened it to inspect the avatar.

  “If it’s BigKillah29, you’re in trouble,” she said before studying the screen for a few seconds. “Well, what do you know? Your handle is BigKillah29. Now how did I know that if you weren’t involved in anything?”

  Thurston shifted in his seat and then looked down at his feet.

  “We didn’t put a gag on you,” Hawk said. “You’re expected to answer these questions one way or another. Now, I’ll give you a pass on this first once since we already know the answer. But you better be more forthcoming in the future. Are we clear?”

  Thurston nodded. His army physique hadn’t completely disappeared, but he had put on a few pounds around his waist since leaving the military. However, Hawk wondered if his prisoner ever spent any time in combat and instead had spent all his time in the field behind a computer screen.

  “Let’s start at the top,” Hawk said. “Tell us about how Obsidian first contacted you.”

  “Ob—what? I definitely don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thurston said.

  “Obsidian, the organization you’re working for,” Hawk said.

  Thurston furrowed his brow. “I’m not working for anybody by that name. I just—”

  “You’ve been warned about the consequences of stonewalling us, so you might want to reconsider your answer before I move you to a different room where we ask questions in a far less polite manner.”

  “Look, I just had some guy ask me if I wanted to make some extra cash,” Thurston explained. “I’m the low man on the totem pole in Senator McWilliams’s office, and it’s expensive to live in Washington. So, I agreed to help him out. But when I heard what he wanted, I told him no.”

  “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  Thurston nodded. “After I declined the offer, I got a call from my girlfriend in Seattle. She was planning on joining me at the end of the month after she fished up grad school, but those plans were put on hold when she was kidnapped.”

  “Did you report her missing?” Hawk asked.

  “They told me if I said anything that they would kill her.”

  “And this story hasn’t made the news yet?” Alex asked.

  “They had her withdraw from her classes and then call in to announce that she was quitting her job. She was a pretty private person and didn’t have any roommates, so all I can figure is that with all her social connections severed, nobody’s realized she’s missing yet. But it’s only been two weeks since this all began.”

  “Did they say when they were going to release her?” Hawk asked.

  “When they were satisfied that they had all the information they needed, they said they would release her. I’m still gathering info, but I only send it when they ask.”

  “I need the email address of the person you’re working with,” Alex said, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen from her computer bag.

  “I—I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Thurston said.

  “If you want to see her alive, I suggest you trust us,” Hawk said.

  “I don’t even know who you guys you are or who you work for. You threw me in the back of your trunk and who knows where we are. So pardon me if I’m running a little low in the trust department these days.”

  “I understand,” Hawk said. “All I can tell you is that we’re special agents Miller and Roman and we work for the government. Is that enough for you?”

  “No, it’s not. I need to see identification.”

  Hawk shrugged. “Sorry, we don’t carry any. For most of our operations, it’s best that way.”

  “Then this is all bullshit,” Thurston said. “For all I know, you’re with the same people who are strong arming me into doing their dirty work and you just want to see if I’ll crack.”

  “When was the last time you heard from your contact?” Alex asked.

  “Three days ago. Why?”

  “Because they’re done with you,” Alex said. “And if we were working with them, we would’ve killed you already and not gone through painstaking lengths to assure your safety. Besides, what do you have to lose?”

  “My girlfriend, for starters.”

  “We’ll bring all our resources to bear in order to get her back for you,” Hawk said. “We’ll call in favors and get the best people on the job to get her back safely. That’s what I can promise you if you’re willing to work with us.”

  “Fine,” Thurston said. “I’ll help. But I don’t know what good it’s going to do.”

  Hawk pulled out his knife and sliced through the cord around Thurston’s hands.

  “Write down everything,” Alex said. “All the contacts, all the protocols. And I’ll need the email address and password you use to communicate with them. We’ll likely need to do this from whatever computer you normally use when contacting them.”

  Thurston nodded and started writing.

  Hawk tugged on Alex’s sleeve, gesturing for her to join him in the corner.

  “You think you can make this work?” Hawk asked in a whisper.

  “I’ll see what I can do, but there are no guarantees. We’re still feeling out just how ruthless these people are and what they’re fully capable of doing.”

  “We already know that they’re incredibly dangerous.”

  Alex nodded. “I think there are plenty of layers to the organization. And this isn’t going to be a simple operation by any stretch of the imagination.”

  CHAPTER 17

  HAWK AND ALEX DROVE Thurston to his apartment and got to work. Alex doctored some images to make it appear as though several prominent senators were in compromising situations with women other than their wives. When she was finished, Thurston let out a long whistle.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was real,” he said.

  “That’s the point,” Alex said. “However, I’m only trying to pique their interest enough so they open the image. The subject line and message will be what sells this. They won’t know what’s in the images until they click.”

  “The handler told me that I’m only to respond to his emails, not initiate anything,” Thurston said.

  “I think we can get around that,” Alex said with a wink.

  She returned her focus to the computer and started to hammer away on the keyboard. A half hour later, she stood and announced that she was finished, triumphantly raising her hands in the air.

  “You’re ready to send it?” Hawk asked.

  She nodded. “Read this and tell me what you think.”

  Hawk scanned the email, which had a tantalizing subject line: “If you thought what I sent you before was . . .” He chuckled as he looked at the note.

  “You should work for one of those click bait companies, Alex. This is excellent. I have to know what’s inside here.”

  “Maybe one day,” she said. “Honestly, I would like to get revenge on all those companies who post click bait headlines and stuff them into endless slideshows. I bet I’ve wasted two months of my life scrolling through something that could’ve been said in one paragraph.”

  Thurston started laughing, the first moment of shared levity since he was corralled by Hawk and Alex.

  “Why don’t you compile all these pictures into a slideshow?” Thurston said.

  Alex wagged her finger at Thurston. “Because we want to punish these people in far more excruciating ways. And we don’t want to make them so mad that they don’t return your girlfriend.”

  Thurston sighed as the smile van
ished from his face.

  “Yeah, I know Maya would appreciate that.”

  “That’s her name?” Alex asked. “Maya?”

  “Yes, Maya Walker. She’s an amazing woman and was about to get her masters in public health from the University of Washington. She had a fellowship already lined up here, so I don’t know what’s going to happen now.”

  Hawk caught a sideways glance from Alex and understood her look.

  “Why don’t we have a drink over in the living room so Alex can finish up,” Hawk suggested. “Do you have any beer or bourbon?”

  “The pantry is fully stocked with liquor, and there’s beer in the fridge.”

  “Excellent,” Hawk said. “What do you want?”

  “Surprise me,” Thurston said.

  Hawk returned to the living room with a pair of tumblers filled halfway with bourbon. They continued to shoot the breeze while Alex sent off her email.

  Ten minutes later, she pumped her fist and stood to celebrate.

  “They took the bait,” she said.

  Hawk and Thurston hustled over to her to glean more details.

  “Did they write back?” Thurston asked.

  “Not yet,” Alex said just before a ping designated a new message had just arrived in her inbox.

  “Ask and ye shall receive,” Thurston said.

  Alex clicked on the message and read it aloud: “Thanks for your generous offer, but I believe I warned you not to initiate any contact with us. We will contact you.”

  “Didn’t he read what you wrote?” Thurston asked.

  Alex shrugged. “I explained why I was breaking protocol, that I just couldn’t contain my excitement over these salacious images.”

  Thurston sighed. “I hope this doesn’t come back on Maya.”

  “Well, if it does, I apologize,” Alex said. “However, he opened the pictures, which means the code I embedded will soon send me details of their exact location based off the IP address.”

  “But you can spoof an IP address,” Thurston said.

  Hawk nodded. “We know that all too well. And apparently, you’re pretty good at it.”

  “You can fool outside servers, but your own computer knows where it is—and that’s the information I’m after.”

  They all read and re-read the message before Alex’s phone pinged with a text message. She smiled as she read it.

  “This is my report coming back to me,” she said as she placed her phone down on the desk. She copied the IP address from her phone into a special CIA website on Thurston’s laptop.

  “Bingo,” she said, pointing at the screen.

  A map appeared where a blinking red dot denoted the exact location along with an address.

  “How did you do that?” Thurston asked.

  “A good magician never tells her secrets,” Alex said as she hurriedly wrote down the information on a sheet of paper.

  She then entered the address and started scouring the internet for more information about the place where Maya Walker was being held. Her mouth fell agape, and she peered more closely at a list rendered by her search.

  “Hawk, you’re not gonna believe this.”

  “Try me,” Hawk said.

  “This property belongs to a company owned by Mike Paxton.”

  “The Mike Paxton?” Hawk asked in disbelief.

  She nodded. “Yes, the former senator Mike Paxton.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Wintergreen, Virginia

  THE NEXT MORNING, Alex drove Hawk and Thurston in the team’s surveillance van to Wintergreen Resort. Hawk expressed his reservations about letting Thurston tag along, but Alex made the case that his presence might turn out to be valuable should they catch Mike Paxton.

  Paxton was a former Virginia senator who had his heart set on winning the White House. However, a couple of illegal campaign finance charges scuttled those hopes and, with it, all the influence he’d amassed in Washington after serving three terms. His personal financial situation didn’t suffer as he landed in the resort community of Wintergreen, but he pined away about losing his ability to steer policy and sway politicians to join in on certain legislation.

  In his mid-fifties, Paxton was still in good shape and often posted photos of himself training for and running in Iron Man races. Alex had noted on more than one occasion that she hoped Hawk was still that fit when he reached Paxton’s age.

  The morning operation was simple: capture Paxton and make him talk. Hawk and Alex wanted to get Paxton to order Maya Walker’s release initially before gleaning other pertinent information to begin a systematic takedown of Obsidian. But Alex cautioned that this was going to take a while and the Phoenix team couldn’t get ahead of itself.

  “One step, then another,” Alex had said.

  Hawk sighed. He preferred to dive in headlong and hope to emerge victorious. It was an approach that worked so well for him, but Alex was often the voice of descent, countering that there was wisdom in proceeding with caution when attacking a group as networked as Obsidian.

  Hawk caught Alex sneaking a peek on him as he finished suiting up with his body armor.

  “You look like you’re ready for an all-out war with Paxton,” Alex said.

  “Don’t act like you haven’t seen his posts on Instagram,” Hawk said. “He might be older than me, but you know he’s built like a gladiator. I can’t leave anything to chance.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you’re thinking that way, because I’m going to be very upset if something happens to you on account of your poor preparation.”

  Hawk glared at her. “You know I’m always prepared.”

  “That’s why you always come home—and you always better come home because God help you if you don’t.”

  “Just relax, Alex,” he said. “I’m ready for whatever he throws at me.”

  Alex slowed to a stop a few hundred meters away from the gated driveway leading up to Paxton’s home. A staggered brick fence demarcated the boundary along with a plethora of pine trees that soared above the property. Situated on a ridge, the sprawling two-story brick home cast a dark shadow over the front yard as the sun peeked just above the mountains on the eastern side of the lake.

  “Go get him,” Alex said.

  Hawk opened the door and saluted her before crouching low and hustling across the road. He made his way toward Paxton’s house and climbed over the fence once he reached the edge. Moving toward the house, Hawk used the trees for cover until he was standing a few feet away from a side entrance.

  The garage door jerked upward, catching Hawk off guard. He jumped and hustled behind Paxton’s bass boat sitting on an unhitched trailer. When Hawk turned his attention back toward the garage, he saw Paxton—and Paxton saw Hawk.

  Hawk rushed toward him, but Paxton scrambled inside and locked the door. Backing away, Hawk sought cover—and it was a good thing he did as Paxton returned armed with a gun.

  Paxton squeezed off a couple rounds, sending Hawk diving behind the boat again.

  “I don’t know what you want, but I’m warning you to leave me alone,” Paxton yelled. “I will kill you if I get the opportunity—and I can promise you that nobody is going to know about it. You’ll disappear and your relatives will never know what happened to you. That’s a promise I will keep.”

  Hawk wasn’t deterred by the warning. Instead, he sought a new route to the house to capture Paxton. After a few minutes, Paxton shut the garage door and went back inside.

  “How’s it going out there?” Alex asked. “I heard gun shots, but I can tell you’re still alive and kicking.”

  “Alive? Yes. Kicking? Not so much.”

  “Did you get injured?” Alex asked frantically.

  “No, I’m fine, but this isn’t going to be so simple. It’s obvious that he’s not real keen on the idea of being forced to go somewhere against his will.”

  “Who ever is?” Alex fired back.

  “Good point,” Hawk said. “In the meantime, I need to figure out a way to flush him out.�
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  “So you don’t think the ‘enter with guns blazing’ approach is going to work best in this situation?”

  “That’s a big negative,” Hawk said.

  “Why don’t you sneak inside?” she asked.

  “Maybe I don’t have to,” he said. “Someone just walked out the back door.”

  Paxton lumbered down the steps, his gun stuffed into his pants. He scanned the area. Satisfied that it was clear, he grabbed his putter and a handful of golf balls out of his bag sitting at the foot of the steps. Then he walked over to the putting green installed in his back yard and began to practice.

  Hawk eased around the side and tried to determine the best way to approach Paxton. Deciding to wait until he had his back turned, Hawk edged closer whenever he could tell Paxton’s attention was focused elsewhere. After a few minutes, Hawk was close enough that he could estimate making it to the green before Paxton had time to turn around and see what was coming.

  As soon as Paxton looked down to address his putt, Hawk took off running toward his target. However, before he could get there, Paxton dropped his putter and darted through the bushes. He weaved left and right before dashing down an embankment dotted with pine trees.

  “What’s your status, Hawk?” Alex asked.

  “The target is on the run,” Hawk said.

  “Anything we can do to help?”

  “Negative. He’s racing along the ridge and is going away from you.”

  “Roger that. Keep us apprised of your situation.”

  With Paxton still in Hawk’s sites, he began to wonder how the man had so much stamina. Hawk couldn’t tell where Paxton was ultimately headed or if he was simply taking Hawk on a wild goose chase. Either way, Paxton’s familiarity with the terrain gave him a significant advantage in the chase. Hawk needed to use his wits if he was going to catch Paxton and wrangle him to the ground.

  Up ahead, Paxton darted behind a boulder and then vanished. Hawk combed the area and didn’t see any signs of the former senator.

  “Where the hell did he go?” Hawk asked.

  “Need some help?” Alex asked over the coms.

  “I’d love some,” Hawk said.

  “I’m picking up a heat signature about thirty meters to your right. I wish I could do better and tell you what he’s doing, but the tree canopy provides too much cover for the satellite.”