Brady Hawk 18 - A Deadly Force

by R. J. Patterson

  “Chuck Cormier,” the man said, taking Black’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, especially someone who appreciates New Orleans for what it truly is: A national treasure.”

  “It’s hard not to have a good time in this city.”

  “I came here one weekend fifteen years ago and never left.”

  Black nodded. “Say, Chuck, how long did you say you’ve been living across the street from this restaurant?”

  “For the last decade. I’ve seen some crazy changes around here, but that place just keeps chugging along, serving the finest barbecue in the state.”

  “So, is this the kind of place where you get to know all your neighbors?”

  Chuck shrugged. “Depends on what they’re here for. If they’re here for a good time, yes. If they’re here to hide, nope.”

  “People come here to hide?”

  “Either to hide or to party. New Orleans is a great place to disappear into. You make lots of friends every night, but they don’t have to know your name, though most of them wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.”

  “That’s a fair point. So, what about your neighbors here? Do you know all of them?”

  “Most of them,” Chuck said. “The guy who lives on the top floor over this restaurant ain’t the friendliest fella on the planet.”

  “And he’s been there a while?”

  “Not exactly. His stepfather owned it and I guess gave it to him after he died somewhat unexpectedly about a year ago. I thought the house would go on the market, but it never did. Then the next thing you know, this hard-ass type is marching around the balcony up there like he’s getting ready to pick someone off with a sniper rifle. He’s always got a drink in his hand but never a smile on his face.”

  “Have you seen him around here the past few days?” Black asked.

  Chuck eyed Black cautiously, looking him up and down. “Are you some kinda cop?”

  “Just a friend looking for a friend,” Black said.

  “You must not be that close if he’s trying to hide from you.”

  “You’re the one who said people come here to hide. I’ve been trying to track him down for a while. The rest of his family has been worried sick about him. I’m just trying to get a handle on the situation.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen him in the past week, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. Just be careful. He always looks unstable. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised to wake up one morning and see him splattered all over Bourbon Street if you know what I mean.”

  “You have vivid imagery there, Chuck,” Black said, patting the man on the back. “I’d love to buy you a drink sometime this week.”

  “How ‘bout a two-meat, two-side platter to go along with that drink?”

  “I like how you think. I’ll find you later.”

  With that, Black headed into the bar kitty corner from Fortner’s place and settled into a chair on the balcony. It was the perfect spot to casually keep an eye on everything the traitor was up to, if he was even in town.

  * * *

  JUST AFTER 4:00 A.M., Black sauntered down the steps and onto Bourbon Street again. There were still a handful of Mardi Gras partygoers milling around, shuffling from one pub to the next, but there hadn’t been the slightest hint that Fortner was at home. Once Black was satisfied that no one was paying him any attention or too drunk to see straight, he eased into the alleyway and found the door leading upstairs to the home on the third floor. He picked the lock and crept inside.

  Black searched through Fortner’s desk in search of any clue that would reveal what his plans were. But after a thorough search, Black found nothing. Out of frustration, he slammed the drawer shut. Then he paused.

  Well, look what we have here.

  Black noted the hollow sound and immediately re-opened the drawer. He tapped on it to confirm his suspicion of a false bottom. Using his pocket knife, he pried open the lid to reveal the secret compartment that contained a folder and an address book. Black set them on the desk and started reading.

  Detailed in the document was the master plan for how Obsidian would seek to boost its financial portfolio by controlling world markets. Black’s eyes were glued to the pages, fascinated by the scope of the ambitious endeavor. While the endgame wasn’t anything novel, Black had only seen groups attempt to use war as a way to profit from an uptick in sales for a certain commodity, never the other way around. Obsidian aimed to use terrorist threats and acts of war as a way to create a volatile market that one could profit from significantly.

  Alex will love digging through this.

  Black moved on to the address book, which contained mostly initials and post office boxes from countries all over the world. The two items combined told a starkly different story than the one Fortner tried to tell in Chile. He wasn’t a helpless victim or some cog in the wheel. No, he was high up on the chain of command within Obsidian, though Black doubted at the highest level. He concluded that Fortner lacked the sophistication and knowledge of the economic sector’s inner workings to hatch such a scheme.

  After capturing every page on the camera on his phone, Black was more eager than ever to capture Fortner. And knew just the way to do it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Washington, D.C.

  LATER THE NEXT DAY, the Phoenix Foundation team convened to discuss the results of the simultaneous operations. Alex was the first to the conference room, interested to share what she’d learned regarding her deep dive on A Hand Up’s financials for the past few years. She found their spikes in contributions interesting, if not suspicious. However, the fact that it was all tidy and apparently above board made her wonder if she was just seeing what she wanted to or if A Hand Up had someone in the IRS shielding them from an audit.

  Hawk brought her a cup of coffee and sat next to her as they waited for the rest of the team to enter the room. Black and Blunt followed in short order, and they began rehashing the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  “Everything is beginning to come into focus,” Alex said. “Obsidian is attempting to do exactly what we thought they were going to do—and now we know how they plan to do it.”

  Hawk leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his head. “The real question now is if we’re able to stop it and eliminate these people.”

  “Exactly,” Blunt said, pointing at Hawk. “This whole thing is going to be dicey since we’re talking about making prominent people disappear.”

  “Disappear is a euphemism, right?” Black asked. “These bastards need to be put down. They’re the sickest kind of people, profiting off death and destruction. And there needs to be a reckoning.”

  “Agreed,” Blunt said. “But we’re going to have to do this our way. The circle of people who know about this needs to be small. Plausible deniability must be something we consider when it comes to who we tell and who we don’t. And President Young is one of those people who can’t find out what we’re up to.”

  “I think we need to let him know about Fortner,” Hawk said. “After all, Young was the one who picked Fortner to head up things at the Pentagon.”

  Blunt grunted as he chewed on his cigar. “We can tell Young after the fact. This intel needs to be kept in this room unless it’s absolutely necessary to bring others in.”

  “Sounds like the best way to proceed to me,” Black said.

  “Is there anything else you feel we need to know before calling it a day?” Blunt asked.

  Black nodded and connected his phone to the monitor on the far wall. “Before we split, I wanted to see if anyone recognized any of these addresses here in Washington?”

  He scrolled through the images he took from Fortner’s address book with a Washington, D.C. zip code. The team collectively shook their heads as Black flipped from one image to the next.

  “Wait a minute,” Blunt said. “Go back one.”

  Black swiped to the image Blunt requested. “See something there, boss man?”

  “The one at the top,” Blunt
said, pointing at the screen. “I recognize that street and number.”

  “Is this some spy we should know about?” Hawk asked.

  “Not exactly,” Blunt said. “That belongs to one Catherine Tiller, better known as Kitty Tiller.”

  “Is that an exotic dancer stage name?” Alex asked.

  Blunt cracked a wry smile. “She is known as a man-eater, ruining the livelihoods of several politicians in this city, some even before their careers got off the ground.”

  “And how is she significant in all this?” Hawk asked. “She doesn’t seem to fit the profile of the types of people we’re seeing affiliated with Obsidian.”

  “She’s certainly not an operative, if that’s what you mean,” Blunt said. “However, I happen to know Fortner was in a relationship with her, something he kept very secretive.”

  “But you knew,” Alex said.

  Blunt winked. “I know everything about everyone in this town. Good luck trying to keep a secret from me.”

  “Maybe this address book is worthless then,” Black said.

  “I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just yet,” Blunt warned with the wag of his finger. “It could be a mix of people associated with Obsidian as well as people who might be willing to hide him out for a few days when he’s on the run.”

  “He’s slippery,” Black said. “If he’s this well connected around the world, we’re going to have a hard time pinning him down.”

  Blunt shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. If there’s anyone he’ll tell what he’s up to, it’s Kitty Tiller.”

  “Think he’s there now?” Hawk asked.

  “There’s only way to find out,” Blunt said. “I’m sending you and Black on a stakeout of her apartment tonight. So go home and get some rest and then plan on spending the night together drinking coffee and keeping each other awake with your most imaginative stories while you keep an eye on her place.”

  “Sounds like barrels of fun,” Hawk said.

  Alex laughed. “So sorry I have to miss out on that, boys. I’ll think about you while I’m in my bed and snug asleep.”

  “Not so fast, Alex,” Blunt said. “I want you to analyze all this information that Black brought back from New Orleans. See if you can find market correlations with world events on those days. We need to find out exactly how Obsidian is manipulating the market.”

  Alex saluted Blunt. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

  “This is not how I envisioned spending my evening,” Hawk said.

  “Are you complaining, Hawk?” Blunt asked.

  Hawk shook his head.

  “Good, because if you are, I’ve got an undercover assignment I can give you that requires you to wear high heels and makeup,” Blunt said with a grin.

  “No, sir, I’m good. Black and I will have a fabulous time tonight.”

  Blunt stood and clapped. “Well, let’s get to it. We’ve got a world to save, people.”

  * * *

  ALEX CREATED A SPREADSHEET with dates that corresponded with spikes in A Hand Up’s financial fortunes. One column listed all the large donations and the dates they were made. Another column was reserved for major world events, such as terrorist attacks and suicide bombers. It didn’t take her long to realize that each spike was about a month to the day after each incident, confirming what Black suspected from reading Obsidian’s white paper. She wondered if it was even possible to reverse the organization’s fortunes. And even if it were, what would the collateral damage be? More people losing their retirement savings in the stock market? Creating worldwide financial instability? The better option seemed like a systematic elimination of the people behind this power grab.

  Alex cobbled together some reports and printed them out. She was tired and ready to go home when she received a notification that the printer required more paper.

  Just when I thought I’d get home at a decent hour . . .

  She trudged off to the supply room and found an open ream of paper. After grabbing a handful, she noticed a body camera on the shelf. She usually processed all the video captured from Hawk’s mission but hadn’t been given any footage from his trip to Dubai. Curious as to how the operation looked when she lost contact with him, she grabbed it to look at while the spreadsheets finished printing.

  Alex removed the chip that recorded all the action and slid it into the slot in her computer. A few seconds later, she was skimming through Hawk’s mission. First the spill on Littleton’s suit followed by the incident in the bathroom. It all appeared just like it was reported. However, she furrowed her brow when she heard Hawk talking about how the connection was bad. Her voice sounded crystal clear in the footage, which was taken straight from Hawk’s coms. Then Hawk’s response seemed to be cutting in and out, but the ambient background noise wasn’t.

  What the?

  She skimmed ahead in the video and found Hawk communicating with Blunt and talking about cutting Alex out of the loop. Moving ahead, she saw Hawk’s perspective as he sat in another restaurant and watched her half brother Shane Samuels dine with Andrei Orlovsky.

  Alex fumed over the fact that not only had Hawk hid this extra part of his mission from her but that he conspired with Blunt to keep her in the dark. While she wasn’t sure how she felt about Samuels, she hated being deceived, especially by the two people she trusted the most.

  She made a screenshot of Samuels and Orlovsky eating together and printed it out.

  “We’re going to have a little word about this,” she said as she snatched the picture off the printer.

  CHAPTER 8

  HAWK WARMED HIS HANDS with his cup of coffee as he eyed the entrance to Kitty Tiller’s apartment. He glanced over at Black, who was seated behind the steering wheel and wore a faint smile.

  “What are you so happy about?” Hawk asked. “We’re stuck in this car for who knows how long, staring at a building. Don’t you have other things you’d rather be doing?”

  Black’s grin grew wider as he shook his head. “You’re an old married fogey, Hawk, with a beautiful bride waiting at home. Catching the bad guys is what I’m hitched to for now and probably the foreseeable future.”

  “I doubt Alex is up waiting for me. She’s probably still at the office, poring over all those documents you collected in New Orleans.”

  “Maybe you’re losing your fire for this job,” Black said. “We’re this close to catching Fortner and starting to peel back the layers on Obsidian.”

  “I’ve still got plenty of passion when it comes to serving my country, but watching the apartment of some Washington madam isn’t exactly how I’d prefer to do it.”

  Black shrugged. “It’s not all about bullets and bravery. Sometime patience and persistence are just as important, if not more so.”

  “Are you writing fortune cookies in your spare time?” Hawk asked.

  “You’re digging my succinct nuggets of wisdom, aren’t you? I’ll be sure to write that one down later to pass it along to all the children I’m never going to have.”

  “You just seem a little too amped up for this assignment, that’s all.”

  “Well, I do have some history with Kitty Tiller,” Black said.

  “History? Did you—”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that. But I was working an assignment once where she was involved with this senator who I was shadowing. I’ve met her several times. She’s a pleasant woman, even if she is a preying opportunist. I find her ilk disgusting. However, men who fall into her clutches are stupid, especially with the reputation she now has. And the fact that Fortner ever got involved with her in the first place makes me question his wisdom. He certainly knows better.”

  “Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing and was using her.”

  “Let’s not give Fortner that much credit just yet. I don’t think he sought out any of this business with Obsidian. It’s far more likely that he was just a vulnerable man in a key role.”

  “You might be right, but he’s been more than competent when it comes to avoiding capture,” Hawk
said. “He’s been two or three steps ahead of us.”

  “He was ripping pages right out of the Obsidian playbook for coercing cooperation. Now that his tactic has been exposed, we can plan ahead too. And I don’t think he ever thought we’d find his hideout in New Orleans. That might’ve never even been a place we considered to look had we not had such good fortune.”

  Hawk laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call getting pounded into pulp good luck.”

  “But meeting Liling was definitely was since she pointed us toward New Orleans.”

  “And here we are, sitting outside Kitty Tiller’s apartment, just waiting for him to show up,” Hawk said before he sighed.

  “It makes sense that he’d come here, especially if he was working with her before. She might be gathering some kind of intel to help him or simply needing a place to lay low in Washington while he manipulates someone else to do some of Obsidian’s bidding.”

  Hawk leaned forward in his seat, squinting as he watched the dimly lit street. “Look over there. Is that him?”

  Black peered through his binoculars. “That’s him all right. What is he doing?”

  “Does he have a key?” Hawk asked.

  “It looks like he’s waiting for someone to open the door.”

  “Let’s get him.”

  As Hawk went to open the door, he jumped back as a shadowy figure slapped a piece of paper against the window.

  “Alex?” Hawk said as he furrowed his brow. “What are you doing here?”

  “Look at this,” she said. “I want to know what you were doing there.”

  “Fortner just showed up. Let’s talk about this later.”

  “We’ve been made,” Black said. “He’s running.”

  Alex stepped away from the door and made room for Hawk to open it. He and Black tore down the street after Fortner.

  “Which way did he go?” Hawk asked.

  “He cut down that alley right there,” Black said.

  “I’ll go around the backside and wait for you to flush him out.”