“Like I said before, why me?”
“Because you’ve got the intangibles to succeed?”
“Such as?”
The man got up and retrieved the tea kettle that was whistling. He returned moments later with a cup for Hawk. He held it up. “Because you have people skills, especially in this part of the world.”
“What has that got to do with anything?”
“That’s your ticket in,” the man said with a smile.
“Come again.”
Angel took a sip of his tea and then sat back in his chair. “While Ghazi bounces around from place to place in the Middle East, we just recently learned where he’s truly based out of—Zaranj, Afghanistan. It’s on the border near Iran and is virtually ignored by the U.S. forces in the country. And it’s where he’ll go when he returns to hiding.”
“He won’t be with Fazil and the rest of Al Hasib?”
“Fazil has at least a dozen hideouts and compounds, and he has no discernible pattern as to where he goes. He prefers that his top lieutenants remain at large and only assemble when necessary to make it more difficult to cripple the group should they get hit by a strike.”
“So, I’m supposed to just go into Zaranj and use my people skills to gain their trust and win them over?”
“Something like that. I’m sure your handler will think of something appropriate for you. But it’s the best way to get access to Ghazi. However, you best not delay. This window of opportunity won’t last long.”
“Let me talk with my superiors about this.” Hawk stood. “I can’t make decisions unilaterally on the field.”
“Whatever you do, make it quick. If Ghazi disappears again, who knows how many people he’ll kill.”
Hawk nodded and offered his hand to the man. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. It’s an honor to meet you after all these years.” He paused. “I trust you’ll take these words to heart.”
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Angel. I’ll make sure that we capture Ghazi and cut off the head of the snake. I’ll make you proud.”
Angel smiled. “You’ll make your dad proud, too.”
Hawk set his tea cup down and hustled toward the door.
“Wait,” Angel said. “Before you go, I need to ask you to do something for me—something very important.”
CHAPTER 24
BLUNT AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING to the sound of his doorbell. He pulled the covers off and stumbled toward the door, tying his bathrobe around him as he went. He peeked through the hole and shook his head in disbelief.
I’m gonna kill her.
“Get in here, Alex,” he said as he opened the door and snatched her inside. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it before he started to tear into her. “What do you think you’re doing coming here to my house in broad daylight? You have no idea who might be watching me—or you. That’s the kind of carelessness that gets agents killed or compromised or both.”
“I’m sorry, Senator. It’s just that I found out something else that you need to know, something very important.”
The scowl vanished from Blunt’s face. “Did you speak with Hawk?”
She put both her hands up. “No, not yet. This has nothing to do with him.”
“While I still think you jeopardized everything by coming here, information about Hawk and his whereabouts are about the only thing worth risking your cover for.” He gestured toward the door. “So whatever this is, I’m sure it can wait.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have a different perspective once I tell you what’s going on.”
He crossed his arms and glared at her. “Go on, and make it quick.”
Alex proceeded to tell him about why she more or less went dark on him and some of the people she met in the process. Then she dropped her bombshell.
“I had a friend of mine at the CIA do some digging into who the mystery man was that ambushed me in the apartment that was fully furnished just a few hours before. Turns out he works for another special classified project run by none other than Guy Hirschbeck.”
Blunt furrowed his brow. “That makes no sense. Why would Hirschbeck be in charge of some secret project? He’s been on the Hill just long enough to figure out where the restrooms are and can still barely wipe his own ass.”
“Don’t get mad at me—I’m just the messenger here.” She held her finger in the air. “But it might explain some of his animosity toward you. Perhaps he thinks you’re stepping on his toes.”
“I’d stomp on them with steel-toed boots if I could find his feet, believe me when I say that.”
Alex nodded as if she understood.
Blunt started to pace around the entryway. “We’ve got to be extra careful from now on. While I wish I could say this surprises me, it doesn’t. This is Washington politics and government bureaucracy run amok as usual. Some pencil-neck geek has a personal vendetta against me for who knows what reason, and he’s weaseled his way into creating some secret task force to suss out information about what I’m doing. He’s either overly curious or overtly dangerous. Either way, we have to be careful that he doesn’t learn about Firestorm.”
“Who all knows about what we’re doing?”
“Not many people, but the President himself is the one who requested that I lead this thing. If I had my druthers, I’d be in the Caribbean with some attractive woman and drinking Jack and Coke about right now. But nobody tells the President no.”
“Would it save everyone a big headache if you looped him in?”
“Look, Alex, there are plenty of things I appreciate about you—your tenacity, your willingness to get the job done even if it means bending the rules a little. I have no doubt that might come back to bite me one day, but I’m willing to live with it because you’re the right person to be working with Hawk on this team. And while I appreciate your optimism, it’s sprinkled with far too much idealism. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, the main reason Firestorm is so secretive is because it’s illegal, more or less. We’re operating far outside the boundaries of what’s permissible under the law. And you can bet there’s enough hacks on the Hill who’d love to write an expose on Firestorm, and even more political foes who’d love to pin this on the President and try to put him behind bars. So, I—”
“Just stop right there,” Alex said. “I know about all this; it’s just that I thought there might be an easier solution.”
“No solutions are easy in Washington. Everybody has to get their fingers in the pie, whether for their constituency or their legacy. And while I’d love to take Hirschbeck out somehow, it’d come back to haunt me, I’m sure.”
“Fine. I’ll let you handle it your way.”
Blunt’s eyes locked with Alex’s. “You better. It’ll be more than your job at stake if you dare to confront Hirschbeck. I’ll take care of it. You and Hawk just go kill some terrorists, okay?”
She nodded. “I’ll let you know after I speak with Hawk.”
“Good. I don’t care when it is, give me a call, but don’t come over again like this.”
He opened the door for her, and she left. He locked it behind her and shuffled toward the den.
After brewing a pot of coffee, Blunt settled into his favorite easy chair and watched the morning news. He could hardly concentrate after what he did to Alex.
He didn’t hate lying, but he hated lying to her.
CHAPTER 25
TWO DAYS AFTER THE BOMBING, Fazil took a quick trip to Kabul to visit his mother. The guilt he shouldered for leaving her gnawed at him, but he assuaged it by sending her plenty of money. She refused to spend any of it for a long time, questioning where it came from. He dismissed her concerns by telling her that his American education served him well, and that he was a wealthy investment broker who traveled extensively. She eventually came to believe him and decided that it would be acceptable for her to spend the money.
With Fazil’s guidance, she purchased a home on a ridge overlooking Kabul. It was a sprawling mansion that came
with a cook, a gardener, and a security detail. While its grandeur was striking, she had told Fazil on many occasions that she’d trade it all to have her husband back.
However, Fazil had ulterior motives for getting his mother to buy this particular house. For starters, it was a gated community. And aside from the main entrance, it was virtually impenetrable since the back half of the house overlooked a craggy canyon. Even savvy rock climbers might think twice about attempting to scale the face of the wall.
But there was also a hidden room beneath the house that Fazil’s mother didn’t even know about. With a secret entrance along the side of the house, Fazil and his colleagues could access it without being seen and without raising the suspicion of Fazil’s mother.
After he finished having tea with her, he told her he had some business to take care of and needed to talk on the phone outside on the veranda. He asked her to watch Jafar for a little while before he slipped around the side and into his secret lair. Inside, he found Nasim Ghazi waiting for him.
“Brother,” Fazil said as he greeted Ghazi with a hug and a kiss. “It’s been far too long.”
“No doubt about that,” Ghazi said as he released Fazil from the embrace. “We have much to talk about.”
“And we have much to celebrate. Your work in Doha was exquisite—not to mention that your image has yet to be captured on any of the security cameras from the hotel.”
Ghazi smiled. “That’s why I put a few extra pounds of explosive near the security room to make sure anything in that room is unrecoverable.”
“Does anything get past you?”
“In New York, we call that attention to detail.”
“Call it whatever you like—it’s all the same to me. As long as we strike back at the heart of those infidels.”
“Speaking of the infidels, what do you have in mind next?”
Fazil unraveled his keffiyeh. “I was going to ask you the same thing, just to make sure we were on the same page. You know we do this all the time.”
“Okay, I’ll play along.” Ghazi picked up a piece of paper off Fazil’s desk and ripped it in half and slapped a pencil on top. “Let’s write it down at the same time and see if we’re thinking along the same lines.”
They each scribbled down a name and folded up their respective sheets of paper.
Ghazi offered his paper to Fazil. “We’ll open our papers at the same time. On three—one … two … three!”
They both stared at each other, slack-jawed and amazed.
“Every time,” Fazil said. “Allah must be smiling upon us.”
“He’ll be smiling even more if we succeed on this mission.”
Fazil rubbed his face and sighed. “So, what do you think? A week or two?”
Ghazi’s eyes widened. “You’d have better luck with a suicide bomber if you want to move that soon, and you won’t get near the number of infidels if you took your time.”
“So, how much time do you need? A month?”
“Try two at the least. This is a big target. I’ll need to spend a couple of weeks scouting out the area and establishing a protocol for how I can gain access and plant the bombs before I return to Zaranj and build the bombs.”
Fazil shrugged. “Two months it is. Now pack your bags. We don’t have any time to lose. Bahrain awaits.”
CHAPTER 26
ALEX DRUMMED HER FINGERS on her desk as she hummed along to Steely Dan’s “Don’t Take Me Alive” playing through her earbuds. She didn’t have many fond memories of her father since most of them were tainted by having to watch him murder her mother. But she remembered watching him cover this song at a dive bar when she was maybe nine or ten years old. His face never lit up like it did that night on stage. Perhaps it was the defiant nature of the song that brought him unusual joy. Alex couldn’t be sure. But she was sure she felt defiant right then, especially given the suspicious thoughts that nearly overtook her mind.
Guy Hirschbeck was up to something and so was some other black ops group. And maybe Senator Blunt was as well. It was all such a convoluted mess that she began to wonder what she’d gotten herself into. Maybe being damaged goods wasn’t such a bad thing.
I can just go start over in some small town somewhere, teach school, coach volleyball.
The fleeting thought made her happy and momentarily forget just how complicated her life was—not to mention that her job was to serve as Brady Hawk’s handler, and she hadn’t spoken with him in nearly a week.
The phone on her desk rang, snapping her out of her funk. She yanked her earbuds out and answered.
“This is Duncan,” she said.
“Alex—it’s me, Hawk,” he replied. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I know. And unfortunately, it was too late for us to thwart Al Hasib’s plot in Doha.”
“If at first you don’t succeed—”
“Do you have another lead?”
“I think so. But I need a legend because I’ll need to go deep cover.”
“Give me the details so I can go over them with Blunt.”
Hawk proceeded to share what he learned regarding Al Hasib’s protocol and how Nasim Ghazi would be hidden in Zaranj, Afghanistan, building his bombs for their next big attack.
“So are you all right?” she asked. “What happened?”
“Aside from nearly getting my head chopped off by Karif Fazil’s minions only to have to survive a harrowing chase through unfamiliar terrain, things are good. You can read all about it in my report. What about with you?”
“Oh, the usual. Blunt’s made more enemies and is in danger of the entire program getting shut down only to suddenly gain more funding. Meanwhile, I was nearly abducted in a parking garage until I escaped and then had to fight my way out against some guy who’d trapped me and claimed to be from some other shadowy government organization.”
“Or as I like to call it, the weekend.”
Alex forced a nervous laugh. “This is not what I signed up for.”
“Someone wise once told me that it never is, and it’s called life.”
“Touché. Let me get this information over to Blunt and see what he wants me to do. It may take a few hours.”
“I’ll call back in three.”
***
THREE HOURS LATER, Alex answered her phone with a smooth voice. In the interim, she’d gone over the details with Blunt and developed a new legend for Hawk—all of which Blunt approved.
“You’re now Simon Wells, a member of the Peace Corps teaching English in Zaranj,” she told Hawk.
Hawk didn’t say anything for a moment before he sighed. “Really? The Peace Corps?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Have you read my file?”
“Cover to cov—” Alex stopped herself. She hadn’t even considered how painful it might be for Hawk to engage in an undercover operation as a member of the Peace Corps. “I’m sorry. I’d forgotten about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage. It’s probably the easiest way in on such short notice anyway.”
“Hawk, if I could fix it, I would.”
“I understand. There’s not much time, and you were just doing your job.”
Alex paused for a moment before responding. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that one day.”
“I’ll forward the details to your email account, but I suggest you start making your way there now. I’ve got you starting in three days.”
She hung up and tried to forget about how she’d bungled the move. As much as Hawk insisted it wouldn’t be a problem, she wasn’t so sure. Using the Peace Corps was indeed the fastest way into the country, but utilizing such a familiar experience—one that was full of pain—could cause problems for Hawk.
More troubling was the fact that it could jeopardize the operation, and that was something she just couldn’t live with. But it was too late to do anything about it.
CHAPTER 2
7
SINCE HAWK EXITED his adolescent years, he could only remember crying twice in his adult life. That’s why the tear streaking down his face caught him off guard as he hung up the phone with Alex. While he worked hard to suppress the emotions surrounding his final day in the Peace Corps, he prided himself on the fact that he’d put it behind him. It was in the past—gone forever. Just like Emily Thornton—gone forever.
With Eric Angel’s help, Hawk secured transportation to Zaranj in a semi-truck full of goats. It was the least glamorous way to travel, but its contents guaranteed it wouldn’t garner more than a passing glance at the border.
Hawk settled into his position in the trailer, as far as he could sit forward. Surrounded by creatures who found joy wallowing around in mud all day, he wondered if he could ever be so carefree in life again. The pain he’d already experienced was enough to break a normal man. But he wasn’t normal—at least that’s what everyone had told him his whole life. In fact, he was extraordinary, a warrior. Nothing could intimidate him.
In a moment of honesty, he realized everyone had been lying to him. Sure, he might have appeared like that person on the outside, but deep down he craved intimacy and friendship. The kind of relationship he had with Emily.
As the truck bumped along, Hawk had little to do but think and reflect. He pulled the photo he’d lifted off his attacker in Kirkuk and stared at it, wondering who was behind the attempt on his life. But he also couldn’t stop thinking about her.
But Hawk couldn’t think about her without thinking about him—the man who was responsible for his life but was never really there for him: his father, Thomas J. Colton.
To describe Hawk’s childhood as difficult would qualify as both equal parts true and false. He was born to Alicia Elizabeth Hawk, a woman who did the best a single mother could do in terms of caring for her child. Before her son was born, she struggled to make ends meet, aspiring to one day become a teacher. But such lofty dreams required an education, a higher education—an education her alcoholic father and waitress mother couldn’t afford. She sought alternate means to pay for her education, working as a stripper for eighteen months to save up money for college. Degrading herself in front of leering men wasn’t how she wanted to pay for school, but it was the only job she could get that kept her from living paycheck to paycheck. The money was good, really good. She met with a friend who’d graduated several years ahead of her and had become a teacher. In a month, her friend made half the money she did by just working four straight Monday through Thursday shifts, which were the slowest tip nights. She could make twice that simply by working Friday and Saturday nights. And while Alicia was tempted to forego school, she didn’t want to give up her on dream to become a teacher—nor could she see herself stripping for the rest of her life. At some point, she’d have to turn elsewhere for an occupation.
Brady Hawk Box Set Page 10
