Deep Cover (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 2)

by Jack Patterson

  “Maybe, but there are some questionable characters here.”

  “Hawk, you’re in godforsaken Sierra Leone. The chances of you finding any person who doesn’t have questionable character are slim to none.”

  “There are a few here who seem to be more than your run of the mill riffraff.”

  “What about that tracking device Colton gave you?”

  “Nothing so far,” Hawk said as he shifted in his seat and rubbed his eyes. “I wonder if he’s got a problem with his tracker.”

  “Well, at least you got the diamonds.”

  “I doubt Blunt will be satisfied with that.”

  “Just be careful, Hawk, okay?”

  “It’s hard to be careful when you’re committed.”

  He ended the call and rubbed the corner of his eyes again. A shot of caffeine would be nice, but there were plenty of other things to think about, starting with the issue of Ackerman’s health. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he left her.

  ***

  WHEN HAWK RETURNED to Yokodu around 6:00 a.m., he needed to stash the diamonds somewhere safe for leverage. Keeping them on his person created a more dangerous situation, one where he could be simply robbed at gunpoint and the fruits of his hard work would vanish. He found a spot about a mile from the outfitters just off the side of the road. Hawk dug a small hole and buried the sack at the base of a tree, which he marked by carving a design on it with a knife.

  When Hawk pulled into the outfitters parking lot, he noticed a light in the lobby was still on. Before going to his room, he stopped in to see if anyone was milling around. He’d already decided that he was going to sleep in a different room, talk to an employee of the mine about the missiles, and embark on one final search for them before concluding his unfinished business with Demby.

  After calling out several times with no reply, Hawk slipped behind the counter and grabbed a key to another room. He’d almost disappeared before he heard Ethan Jacobs calling for him.

  “Brady Hawk, is that you?” Jacobs asked.

  Hawk spun around and saw Jacobs standing in the doorway behind the counter. “How’s Dr. Ackerman?”

  “She’s fine. Just a flesh wound. I got her patched up.”

  “Thanks for doing that.”

  Jacobs smiled. “My pleasure.” He paused. “She told me that she wanted to see you whenever you returned, no matter what time it was.”

  Hawk glanced up at the clock behind the counter. “It’s late.”

  “She emphasized any time. And to be honest, I doubt she’s gone to sleep since you left. She was worried sick about you.”

  “Fine. I’ll poke my head in to see if she’s awake.”

  “Room eleven at the end of the hall.”

  Hawk nodded and meandered toward Ackerman’s door. It was cracked, and he knocked softly before pushing it open.

  Instead of seeing her propped up in bed, she was gagged and tied to a chair.

  “Doc?” he said as he rushed in.

  She writhed in her seat, trying to get his attention. But it was too late.

  Demby, who’d been hiding in a corner of the room, slammed the door shut and trained his gun on Hawk.

  “Easy there, Mr. Martin—or whatever the hell your name is,” Demby said. “Keep those hands where I can see them, and slowly turn around.”

  Hawk complied, raising his hands in the air.

  “I heard what you did to my men on the train. Quite impressive. But now I hold the upper hand. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

  “What do you want?” Hawk asked.

  “It’s simple. I want an exchange—the diamonds for the doctor.”

  CHAPTER 35

  BLUNT SLICED INTO HIS SLAB of crispy pork at the Blue Duck Tavern, his favorite Beltway restaurant. He dreamed about hiring a personal chef who could cook that well and serve his favorite dish on the menu everyday. He was convinced he’d never grow tired of pork. The waiter slipped up to the table and asked Blunt if he was satisfied with how his meal tasted.

  “Just rename this dish mana,” Blunt said, “because this has to be straight from Heaven.”

  The waiter nodded. “I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”

  “Pass on my compliments? Hell, I wanna hire the man.”

  Blunt guided another succulent piece of meat into his mouth and took his time eating every last morsel. He was finished and waiting on his banana cream pie for dessert when his phone buzzed.

  Cursing under his breath, Blunt answered his phone, speaking in hushed tones.

  “Please tell me the world isn’t falling apart again,” Blunt said.

  “The situation has changed since we last spoke.”

  Blunt sighed and put his elbows on the table before leaning forward. “What is it this time? Hawk?”

  “Yes, he’s run into a bit of a roadblock.”

  “A bit of one? Or one that covers the entire highway?”

  “The latter, sir. He’s got one hour to return the diamonds or else Demby is going to kill a doctor working with a humanitarian aid project.”

  “Screw the doctor. Tell him to get outta there. He got what he went for.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Blunt stood up and decided to slip outside so he could talk more freely.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Blunt asked as he exited the restaurant.

  “What I mean, sir, is that he hasn’t retrieved the weapons. And if he leaves now, he won’t be able to retrieve them now—or ever, since his cover has likely been blown already.”

  “I’m not greedy. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “But, sir, you’ve stressed how important those missiles are. Don’t you—?”

  “Tell Hawk to get the hell outta there. That’s an order.”

  “Roger that,” Alex said. “I think he might need an extraction, too.”

  Blunt growled. “An extraction? He knows the rules. There’ll be no extractions on these missions. He’s on his own, and if he can’t figure out a way back home, that’s his own damn problem.”

  “So, you’re just going to let the diamonds fall back into their hands? Seems like a waste of a good operative to me.”

  “Save your philosophical waxing for someone who cares,” Blunt said before he hung up his phone.

  He grabbed the handle and prepared to tug it toward him before he stopped. If he chose to be honest with himself, he knew Alex made sense. It’d be a waste to lose Hawk, not to mention the diamonds.

  Blunt turned around and ducked into an alleyway near the restaurant. He dialed the number of General Patrick Stanley and hoped he’d pick up. General Stanley served in the same platoon as Blunt during the Vietnam War but now oversaw a special reconnaissance team in central Africa.

  “I rarely answer my phone before I’ve had my first cup of coffee,” Stanley snarled. “Are you sure you want to take that chance for whatever it is that you’re about to ask me?”

  Blunt stopped and contemplated Stanley’s comment for a brief second before moving forward. “If I could wait, I would.”

  “Bet you thought you’d never play Russian roulette with an American general.”

  Blunt forced a laugh. “This is serious.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “I’ve got an operative in Sierra Leone who needs some help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “The kind that requires more muscle than he has.”

  “What about your survival of the fittest policy? What happened to that?” Stanley scoffed.

  “Policies are made to be broken. But this isn’t him—it’s about what he’s after. And it’s in all our best interest if this mission is a success.”

  “I warned you when this started that I wouldn’t help you and—”

  “I know—and if it wasn’t so important, I wouldn’t call you. But this is different.”

  Stanley took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Send the details to my secure email account. I’ll
take it from there.”

  “Thanks. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “How can I say no to a guy who saved my life?” Stanley paused. “Let’s just not make a practice of this, agreed?”

  Blunt smiled. “I can live with that.”

  "Go finish that fancy dinner I imagine you’re having at some swanky D.C. restaurant. We’ll take care of it from here. I’ve got a team in Freetown that can handle this, I’m sure.”

  Blunt ended the call and then called Alex to have her send all the information to Stanley. While Blunt hated being indebted to others, Stanley owed a lifetime of favors. As long as he didn’t have to presume upon the general’s good graces all the time, Blunt felt more comfortable sending Hawk into dangerous situations.

  But Blunt knew the real reason he couldn’t let Hawk fail. Letting Alex think that it was her idea to enlist the help of another military black ops team was all part of Blunt’s plan. Besides, he couldn’t let his top asset fail in the field.

  Blunt needed the diamonds—even more than he needed Hawk alive.

  CHAPTER 36

  HAWK RETURNED TO WHERE HE BURIED the raw diamonds and peered into the small sack he’d retrieved from Demby’s henchmen less than twelve hours ago. If forced to make a guess, Hawk estimated the retail value of what he held in his hands was somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty to twenty-five million. It’d finance Al Hasib for several months, though not much more given the rate the organization was burning through its artillery.

  These animals will pay one day.

  Hawk clutched the sack and surveyed the area nearby, its desolation interrupted only occasionally by a vehicle creeping by and kicking up clouds of dust.

  Despite his best efforts under the circumstances, he’d been unable to locate the missiles supposedly hidden by Demby. Hawk ventured back to his vehicle when he noticed Solomon, the young boy whose father he’d rescued a few days ago. Solomon smiled as he caught Hawk staring.

  Then Hawk broke into a jog toward the boy.

  “Solomon, it’s me, Mr. Martin.”

  The boy smiled and nodded.

  Hawk grabbed the boy’s arm. “You remember me? From the mine?”

  Solomon bobbed his head before breaking into a tribal language Hawk struggled to identify, much less understand.

  “Can you show me where you live?” Hawk asked.

  Solomon nodded.

  At least he understands me.

  Hawk ran back to his car and followed Solomon along the road. A few minutes later, the boy led Hawk into a modest home in search of Amad, the boy’s father.

  “Is your father here?” Hawk asked.

  Solomon pointed down the hallway.

  Hawk smiled at the boy and headed toward his father’s room.

  “Amad, do you remember me? Mr. Martin?” Hawk said once he caught a glimpse of the man, who was sitting up in his bed.

  Amad nodded. “How could I forget? You saved my life.”

  “I was just happy to help.”

  Amad stood up and pulled on a bathrobe, tying it around his waist. “What can I help you with, Mr. Martin?”

  “I was hoping you could help me find some missiles.”

  “Missiles?”

  Hawk eyed Amad closely. “I think you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  “Let’s suppose I did. Why would I tell you anything about them?”

  “Because I’m here to defuse a situation, not enflame it. I don’t think you want to carry the burden of the inevitable weight of your guilt.”

  “And you think Demby will use them?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Not sure. But this is the same man who was willing to leave all of you buried in the mines.”

  Amad shuffled across the room and pulled out a small sheet of paper from his desk. He started scribbling down something. After he finished, he turned and handed the paper to Hawk.

  “You should be able to find the missiles here. I saw them one afternoon when I was retrieving some supplies to fix a beam in the mine. They’re well hidden, but if he still has them, they’re probably still there.”

  Hawk thanked Amad. “You have no idea how many lives you might have just saved.”

  “Maybe you saving my life will prove to be worthwhile.”

  “It’s always worthwhile to save any good man,” Hawk said as he cut his eyes toward Solomon, who’d wandered into the room. “Especially a father like yourself. I can tell you love him.”

  “I try. I’m all Solomon’s got after his mother died from Ebola,” Amad said. “We try to stick together.”

  “Don’t stop.” Hawk held up the piece of paper. “And thank you again for this information.”

  ***

  HAWK SLIPPED A TRACKER into the bag of diamonds and took a deep breath before entering the outpost. With his gun drawn, he entered the facility. Slumped in the corner was Ethan Jacobs, dead with a gunshot to the head. Hawk crept down the hallway, glancing in both directions in an effort to mitigate any surprise attacks. Once he reached the room, he slowly pushed the door open to find Dr. Ackerman still gagged and tied to a chair. Demby hovered over her, jamming his gun into her head.

  “The diamonds,” Demby said, holding out his hand.

  “Let her go,” Hawk said. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  Demby glared at Hawk. “She has everything to do with this. If she had kept her nose in her own business, this would’ve been over a long time ago.”

  “And I’d be dead,” Hawk snapped. “But things don’t always go like we plan.”

  Demby flashed a wide grin. “No, they don’t. But I always get my way.”

  “I upheld my end of the bargain. It’s time for you to uphold yours.”

  Demby gestured with his gun for Hawk to move. “Over there. I don’t want any surprises.”

  Hawk complied, maintaining eye contact with Demby while walking across the room.

  Demby watched Hawk untie Ackerman. Once Demby finished, he yanked Ackerman up and shoved her toward Hawk.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Demby said, raising his gun toward them. “If I don’t walk out of here with these diamonds, I’ve instructed my men to lay waste to this building.”

  Hawk didn’t flinch, keeping his gun also trained on Demby.

  Demby shuffled toward the exit, never taking his eyes off them. Once he reached the doorway, he used the door as a shield before he opened fire, hitting the doctor in the back.

  “Sorry, Doc. Just couldn’t take any chances,” Demby said before vanishing down the hallway.

  Ackerman crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain.

  Hawk knelt down to help her, ripping sheets off the bed and creating a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Go get that bastard.”

  Hawk refused. “Not until you’re stable.”

  “None of my vital organs were hit. It’s just a flesh wound.”

  Hawk pulled the bloodied sheet off her back to peek at the opening, where she continued to hemorrhage blood.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Go get him.”

  “I put a tracker in the diamonds.”

  “He’ll be long gone if you wait too long. Besides, I’ll get Jacobs to help me.”

  “Jacobs is dead.”

  She shook her head. “Figures.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “No, you’re not. Get your ass out of here, and go make Demby pay. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Hawk felt uneasy about leaving her, but he knew she was right. Given too much of a head start, Demby could vanish—the diamonds and missiles along with him.

  And Hawk wasn’t about to let that happen.

  CHAPTER 37

  ALEX FORWARDED HER CALLS to her cell phone in case Hawk needed her. She figured he was competent enough to complete the mission. Besides, she needed sleep and plenty of it. Yet she wasn’t surprised when Hawk called.

  “Do y
ou have any idea what time it is here?” she said as she answered.

  “Alex, I need your help,” Hawk said.

  She could hear Hawk’s engine roaring and surging in the background.

  “Where are you? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t have time to explain everything, but I’m pursuing Musa Demby as we speak. He’s got the diamonds.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “I’ll tell you all the gory details later, but for now, I need you to follow one of my trackers I put into the sack of diamonds I gave to Demby in an exchange.”

  “Searching for it now,” she said, typing furiously on her keyboard. Only two trackers affiliated with Hawk were activated, and they were both traveling in the same direction only a few meters apart.

  “Tell me you got something.”

  “I do,” Alex said. “It’s right in front of you.”

  “If I lose it, please let me know. I can’t afford to have Demby disappear into the jungle.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Before Alex could say another word, Hawk let out a string of expletives.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Those bastards must’ve let the air out of my tires.”

  Alex was incredulous. “And you’re just now figuring this out?”

  “I think that was the plan,” he said, the background noise dropping from a roar to a low hum. “There aren’t any other vehicles around for me to take now. Just keep tracking them. I’m going to need to know how to find them again once I find an alternate mode of transportation.”

  “Uh, you may not need to,” Alex said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Demby turned left and stopped about a quarter of a mile from your present location.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Ole Amad wasn’t lying to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I know exactly where I’m going now.”

  Alex hung up. She wished she could do more to help Hawk with the mission, but if scrambling out of bed in the middle of the night to track a sack of diamonds that could potentially be funding a dangerous terrorist cell was all she could do, she’d do it with pride. Keeping Hawk alive was her top priority.

  But finding out what was really going on with Blunt and Searchlight was a close second—and she needed Hawk to help her do it.