Hawk heard movement near the front of the shop, and he rushed over toward it. Raja rubbed his head as he staggered to his feet.
“That’s not a polite way to treat your teacher,” Hawk said.
Raja stared at him with a blank expression on his face. “Ghazi was going to pay me fifty thousand dollars—my cousin’s share—if I took all of this to Chabahar for him.”
Hawk titled his head to one side and forced a smile. “You’re made for more than this.”
“You American pigs think you know better than everyone else,” Raja said as he started to pace about. “You just storm into countries uninvited and take whatever you want.”
“Raja, I watched you closely. You’re a smart kid with a bright future ahead of you—as long as it’s a future without these terrorists interfering with your life. They will tell you lies to accomplish their purposes, none of which will actually benefit you in the end. Your English is incredible, and you know so much already about the world. You’d be better off forgetting about these people.”
“What do you know about me? I can’t go anywhere. I have no father. I must work to help support my mother. Until Ghazi offered me more money than I ever dreamed of making, I had no future. But you had to—how do you say—screw it up?”
“You’d be surprised how much I know about you, and how much I see of myself in you.”
Raja smirked. “So I am to become a special forces warrior, an assassin for the American government? Is that my future?”
“That’s not what I see in you. I see someone with potential, but you must learn to harness it for a good purpose.”
“Like you? Killing people in a foreign country?”
Hawk grabbed Raja by the collar and dragged him toward the back of the workshop. “Tell me what you see.”
“Explosives,” Raja said.
Hawk let go of Raja’s collar forcefully before pushing him back a couple of meters. “I killed a few men who were going to kill hundreds of innocent people, and they were going to kill them for a misguided cause. I saved hundreds more than I killed today, and these men were hardly innocent. That’s why I do what I do. I use my skills to make sure more boys in both my country and other countries don’t grow up without their fathers. It’s pretty damn noble, if you ask me.”
Raja stood there, unable to say anything, clearly overwhelmed by his emotions. Tears started to streak down his face before he choked out a few words. “I was going to kill you, but now—”
Hawk put his arm around Raja. “Nobody else needs to die today. Come on. Let’s get you home. I’m sure your mother is worried about you.”
CHAPTER 45
THE NEXT MORNING, Hawk awoke from his bed at the U.S. military compound on the outskirts of Zaranj. After he had returned Raja home, he called Alex, who arranged for an extraction by the U.S. military at the airbase nearby. Blunt had to call in two special favors to make it happen, but everyone was happy to oblige, considering the results.
“Are you ready to leave?” one of the guards asked Hawk after he finished his breakfast.
“I am.” Hawk took a long sip of his coffee. “But I need to go back into Zaranj.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t take you back there.”
“I made a promise to a guy who helped me catch one of the most wanted terrorists in the world, and I intend to fulfill that promise. If you have any questions about this, check with your commanding officer. It’s already been cleared by the U.S. State Department.”
“What exactly are we doing?”
Hawk smiled. “Lead me to your jeep. I’ll tell you on the way.”
***
AS THEY DROVE along the dusty road, Hawk shared with the soldier about the promise he’d made to the mysterious Mr. Angel. Once they arrived at their destination, Hawk hopped out of the vehicle.
“Don’t worry. This won’t take long. They’ll be expecting us.”
Hawk shuffled toward the house and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” said a woman as the door creaked open.
“Gulpari?”
“Yes? Who are you?”
“Eric Angel sent me to pick you up. I’m the one who contacted you last night.” He glanced inside and saw her bags packed.
A young boy slipped up next to her and leaned against her leg. She rubbed his head and then gently lifted his chin so she could see his eyes. “Kamaal, it’s time to get your things. We’re leaving now.”
Hawk grabbed the woman’s bag and the little boy’s hand, leading them to the waiting jeep. They climbed inside and left a trail of dust behind them. Hawk glanced over his seat at the boy, who remained stoic. His mother wiped away a streaking tear and tried not to cry.
“I never thought he would come and get us,” the woman said. “I thought I would spend the rest of my life in shame here.”
Hawk smiled at her. “Things are going to be very different for you now—very different. But I hope things will be better.”
He glanced down again at the little boy. He couldn’t help but notice just how much he looked like Eric Angel.
CHAPTER 46
BLUNT’S EYES DARTED back and forth as he read the story splashed across the front page of The New York Times. He couldn’t resist a slight grin as he read his name. His grin grew bigger when he glanced at the article’s author: Madeline Meissner.
Her story detailed how a special operation resulted in the elimination of one of the most notorious Muslim terrorists—and U.S. traitors—in the world. It also spoke of how it crippled Al Hasib and its ability to commit atrocities on a large scale basis. Another foreign policy expert was quoted as saying that the death of Nasim Ghazi would return Al Hasib to nothing more than a small regional player in the hierarchy of terrorism.
Blunt found another article just below the fold that was of special personal interest. “Senator Killed in Carjacking” blared the headline. The story told about how Senator Guy Hirschbeck was the victim of a random carjacking by a drug addict who’d just been released from prison. The report also mentioned the strange irony that the alleged carjacker had been one of the first criminals released early from prison based on a bill sponsored by Senator Hirschbeck himself.
“Ain’t that a kick in the pants,” Blunt said aloud.
“Excuse me, sir?” Preston said as he slipped into Blunt’s office unnoticed.
“Sorry, Preston, I didn’t see you there. Just commenting on this article.”
“Good news, I trust.”
“Good news for us—not so much for Senator Hirschbeck.”
“Did something happen to him?”
“He’s dead. Killed by one of those crack heads he insisted needed to be released early to stop overcrowding in prisons because they weren’t violent offenders.”
“Well, I’m sure he’d change his mind now given the chance.”
Blunt folded the paper and slapped it down on his desk. He gestured for Preston to have a seat.
“Thanks for taking care of Madeline Meissner for me,” he said. “She’s a damn good journalist. And I enjoyed reading her article on the front page of The New York Times this morning.”
Preston leaned back in his seat. “Well, it’s like you always say, sir. Sometimes you just need to apply the right kind of pressure.”
Blunt chuckled. “A quarter of a million and a job at the country’s most prestigious daily newspaper trumped death threats, I suppose.”
“For the time being,” Preston said. “But I’m keeping my eye on her.”
“Good,” Blunt said. “A reporter in your pocket is always a good thing, and a tight leash is of utmost importance.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.” Preston nodded and stood before heading toward the door. He stopped just short and looked over his shoulder. “You truly are an American treasure, sir.”
Blunt waved him off. “Just doing my job to keep America safe.”
Preston furrowed his brow. “So, just to be clear—you had nothing to do with Hirschbeck’s unfortu
nate demise?”
“Not a thing, though I’m sure I’ll muster up some tears for the funeral.”
“Nice how that worked out for you then, sir.”
Blunt leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I’m certainly not complaining.”
CHAPTER 47
HAWK AGREED TO MEET Alex in the cafeteria of The National Archives building in College Park, Maryland. He hated D.C. traffic and the paranoia that he felt the moment he set foot in the city. But the National Archives was perfect for a public meeting place. It was heavily monitored, more remote and wide open. If anyone was surveilling them, he’d know it.
He settled into a corner booth a few minutes before 10 a.m. and awaited Alex’s arrival. When Alex appeared from around the corner on the hour, Hawk was taken aback by her appearance. He’d seen her on video conferencing, but pixels on a screen didn’t convey her power, grace, and beauty. Alex was dressed sharp with a white blouse and a long skirt, her head held high, confident. The fact that she was stunningly beautiful was just a bonus. He tried to look past the wavy brown hair that cropped her goddess-like face and her deep-set green eyes. She almost made him forget about Emily.
He stood when she arrived, gesturing for her to sit down.
“Thanks for meeting me,” she said.
“My pleasure. I wouldn’t turn down a face-to-face meeting with you after everything you’ve done for me.”
“Even though Blunt told us never to meet in person?”
Hawk smiled and leaned forward, talking in almost a whisper. “We’re his spies, remember?” He paused and glanced around the almost vacant room. “Besides, I scoped this place out before you arrived.” He nodded in the direction of the only other two men in the room, both sitting together. “They’re both employees who work in the microfilm research room. I doubt they’ve even bothered to notice that we are sharing the same air as them right now.”
Alex laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Hawk asked. “It seemed quite urgent when you called.”
“I’m glad you went dark when you did because I had some harrowing encounters with some other nefarious agents.”
Hawk’s eyes widened. “I had no idea. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine now, but it was touch and go for a while there. Fortunately, I have a friend at the CIA who helped me get through it.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me about? Are you still in danger?”
“No, I took care of it—and some of the problems took care of themselves.”
“So, what is it then?”
Alex took a deep breath. “While I was trying to figure out who was behind some of these attacks on me, I started digging in some places I probably shouldn’t have and stumbled upon some information that I thought you’d want to know about.”
“Out with it, Alex. I have enough drama in my life without you dragging this out.”
She forced a smile. “Look, I don’t really know how to say this other than your father isn’t who you think he is.”
“Is he some heartless criminal on top of being the world’s foremost weapons manufacturer?”
“No, maybe I’m not putting this clearly, but Thomas Colton isn’t your father at all.”
Hawk withdrew, slumping back against the seat as he tried to process what Alex just said. After a few moments, he finally spoke. “Are you sure?”
“Unless the file was a plant for me to find, but I couldn’t think of a legitimate reason for anyone to do that.”
“So, who is my father?”
She shrugged. “I’m still working on that. There’s no photo, and his file only has a number assigned with it—no name.”
“But how can that be? My mother won a paternity suit against him. Surely, he didn’t just concede that she was right without taking a paternity test. I mean, why else would he act like my dad?”
“Maybe your mom paid someone to alter the DNA test results. I don’t know.”
“So, the man you say is my real father is somehow connected to the CIA? That’s where you found his file, right?”
She nodded. “It was a file I found attached to yours and under known relationships, you were listed as his son.”
“That just seems like a mistake. I have a hard time believing that’s true.”
“I can do some more digging, but I thought you’d want to know. Perhaps you can ask Mr. Colton if he’d like to submit to another DNA test.”
Hawk shook his head. “If I did that, my mother would lose everything she gets from him. And she deserves it for raising me on her own.”
“Well, I won’t tell you what to do with the information, but I thought you should know.”
Hawk sighed. “I know this might be a lot to ask on top of what you just told me, but can you find out the origin of these photos for me?” He slid her photos he’d collected off the would-be assassin in Kirkuk and Frank Culbert in Zaranj.
She picked them up and studied them for a moment. “I’ll see what I can do.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, I really need to run. I’ve got a debriefing with General Johnson and Blunt later today that I need to get ready for.”
Hawk thanked her and watched her walk away. He was hoping the big secret she planned to tell him had something to do with stopping terrorism—or a sinister D.C. scandal. That he could’ve handled, possibly even enjoyed. But not this. Finding out that the man he believed to be his father wasn’t created angst.
However, it also made him wonder. Who was his real father? And what was his story? And why did his mother lie all these years?
Those were questions he’d want answers to over time, along with the whereabouts of Emily’s killers. He started to enter into a mental fog thinking about it all when the newscaster on the television in the corner said something that arrested his attention. His head snapped toward the direction of the screen.
More unrest in Sierra-Leone today as American Diamond magnate Theodore Barrister was shot and killed in Freetown this morning, resulting in the looting of his mine. This is the second such incident at a diamond mine in West Africa this month. In other news, oil continues to drop and reached a 35-year low today.
Hawk grabbed his jacket and stood. He had some more work to do.
THE END
Keep reading to get the first part of DEEP COVER, Book 2 in the Brady Hawk series ...
FIRST STRIKE
© Copyright 2016 R.J. Patterson
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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.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-938848-81-0
First eBook Edition 2016
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DEEP COVER
A Brady Hawk Thriller
R.J. PATTERSON
For my sister, Malinda, who was a great
soldier and is a fantastic mother
CHAPTER 0
Yokodu, Sierra Leone
BRADY HAWK SWALLOWED HARD and tried to ignore the sharp blade held firmly against his neck. Only moments ago, he was enjoying a drink with Jay Collier, an expatriate who’d relocated to Sierra Leone for a job with a local safari outfit. Hawk welcomed the benign conversation, especially after he’d been hidden in plain sight for almost a week. Yet something Hawk said apparently made Collier jumpy—and now Hawk had to consider the fact that each thought might be his las
t unless he calmed Collier down.
“Can we talk about this?” Hawk said.
“What’s there to talk about, Mister Martin? As if that’s even your real name,” Collier snapped as he shoved Hawk against the side of the building. “Want to tell me again about that duiker you killed?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”
“I was just makin’ small talk, man. Come on. No need to get all worked up about it.”
“You think it’s sporting to kill a defenseless duiker in the wild?”
“Seems like we have some cognitive dissonance going on here. I’ve got no weapon, and you’ve got a knife to my throat.”
“Shut up,” Collier said as he tightened his grip on Hawk’s arms. “I know why you’re here, and I’m going to collect quite a price for you.”
“I wouldn’t advise that if I were you.”
“I said shut up!” Collier said, pushing Hawk forward into the dusky night air.
“Where are you taking me?”
Collier kneed Hawk viciously in the back of his leg, crippling him before sending him to the ground. “Perhaps I should cut off your ears first, since they seem to be a couple of appendages that don’t work all that well.”
The sandy soil grinding beneath Hawk’s feet served as an ever-present reminder that he was on foreign ground. As the two men edged farther away from the bar, the darkness grew thicker. A small outhouse a few meters ahead appeared large enough to provide any cover Hawk might need, not to mention solving his dilemma of where to stash a body in a hurry.
Hawk staggered toward the outhouse and bumped it hard with his elbow. It was empty.
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