Brady Hawk Series, Books 4-6

by R. J. Patterson

  “As far as I know, it’s a green light.”

  “Excellent. I will be in touch after they’ve completed their assignment.”

  Blunt hung up. He’d known Roland for a long time, but such friendship didn’t equate to trust. If backed into a corner by the U.S. authorities or an international crime syndicate, Roland would give up Blunt. It wouldn’t matter to Roland who was the consummate politician. No alliance was so sacred to Roland that it demanded his undying devotion.

  Blunt signaled to the bartender to bring another glass of scotch. Fiddling with his phone, Blunt opened up the app he’d installed to check on his room. His paranoia had reached new heights. He realized his distrust of Roland was likely unwarranted given the long history of their friendship, but he’d been ambushed enough times that he quit giving anyone the benefit of the doubt many years ago. Blunt glanced at the screen and let out a low guttural sound.

  He downed his drink then slammed the glass on the counter along. He slapped a twenty-dollar bill next to it and lumbered back toward his room. He looked at his phone again just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. He wasn’t.

  On Blunt’s phone screen, the image of a man rummaging through his room was real. And it wasn’t the hotel staff either. Blunt stomped upstairs and waited outside the door, which was slightly cracked. He could identify where the man was by peering into the room and looking at a mirror. The man’s reflection was difficult to make out with any detail, but Blunt had no doubt the man wasn’t supposed to be in there.

  Blunt waited until the man walked behind the door. Then Blunt put his shoulder into the door, ramming it into the man’s head and sending him sprawling. Blunt proceeded to deliver two quick punches followed by a stiff uppercut that knocked out the man. He searched for something to tie up the man with but found nothing. He hustled into the hallway and found an unattended cleaning cart. Checking to make sure no one could see, Blunt lifted several sets of sheets from the cart and carried them back to his room where he used the sheets to tie up the assailant.

  Blunt then sat down at the small table in the kitchenette area and opened up the complimentary paper that had been shoved under his door earlier that morning. There was enough in English for him to read that would pre-occupy his time until the man regained consciousness.

  While Blunt had plenty of questions, all Blunt could do was sit and wait.

  CHAPTER 27

  Berbera, Somalia

  HAWK CLOSED ONE EYE and stared down the barrel with the other. It looked clear, but he brought it close to his mouth and blew a forceful breath through the barrel just to be sure. He pulled it away from his mouth, eyeing it once more.

  “All clear,” he announced, setting the gun on the table. He repeated the process several times with all the weapons he planned to strap to his body.

  “A jam in the middle of a gunfight is a bitch,” McGinn said. “Guys, I gotta tell you that I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

  Hawk set another gun on the table and glanced at McGinn before cutting his gaze over at Alex, who was looking at him. They both returned to their assignments, Hawk with the guns and Alex with the computers.

  “That’s good to hear,” Alex said. “I’d hate for you to have a bad feeling before we entered battle together.”

  “I always have a good feeling,” he said.

  “As long as you have my back, we’ll be okay,” Hawk said, glancing up at McGinn.

  “Of course I do,” McGinn said. “Everything is going to run smoothly.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said.

  McGinn sighed and shook his head. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Alex. To date, every mission I’ve ever been on, I’ve emerged without dying.”

  “There’s always a first time,” she said.

  Hawk cracked a faint smile. If there was one thing he loved about Alex, it was that she was relentless. Even though they hadn’t had much of an opportunity to fully discuss the fact that perhaps they were working with a man who’d been co-opted by the enemy, Hawk knew she understood the situation. They’d been working together long enough that words weren’t always necessary. A look could sometimes say it all.

  McGinn let out a long breath through his teeth He rolled his eyes at Alex’s comment and continued prepping the explosives on the table.

  “Are you always so optimistic, Alex?” McGinn asked.

  She nodded. “It’s what keeps me alive.”

  “Load up in five minutes,” McGinn said, refusing to engage in any more witty banter.

  Hawk collected every weapon he’d collected from his trip to McGinn’s compound and headed for the SUV. Alex did likewise with all her computer equipment.

  “Got any last-minute questions?” McGinn asked Alex as they walked out to the car.

  Hawk turned around and watched Alex shake her head. It was obvious that his partner knew what she was doing and wasn’t interested in giving McGinn any more inside information that might be detrimental to their ultimate objective: take possession of the Sarin gas.

  “You need to be on your A game tonight,” McGinn said. “One wrong move could cost all of us.”

  Alex scowled. “You think I don’t already know that?”

  “Just a reminder,” he said.

  Hawk stopped in front of the SUV and attempted to referee the argument taking place behind him.

  “We need to get on the same page,” Hawk said. “We’re not going up against a fly-by-night operation here. Al Hasib and Al-Shabaab are two terrorists groups that know how to put everyone on edge. Please don’t lose your edge by fighting amongst yourselves. We all need to be committed to working with and for one another. If you can’t do that, then please sit this operation out.”

  Both Alex and McGinn looked somewhat sheepishly at Hawk.

  “Thousands of people could die if we don’t get our act together,” Hawk said. “Now, let’s get it together. Are you with me?”

  Alex and McGinn both nodded and returned to their duties as they loaded up the SUV for surveillance.

  McGinn tossed his last weapon into the trunk before slamming it shut.

  “He isn’t joking, you know?” McGinn said to Alex.

  Alex watched Hawk walk back toward the building where there were plenty of other supplies, enough to make a two-day stand if necessary. To Hawk, every piece was important if they were going to survive the impending onslaught.

  “If you have anything else, grab it now,” McGinn said. “It’s time to ride.”

  He turned the ignition and revved the gas, firing up the engine. “This won’t be easy,” he said with a smile.

  Alex waved him off. “Nothing is ever easy.”

  Several minutes later, Hawk returned and climbed into the passenger side front seat next to McGinn.

  McGinn slapped the steering wheel and let out a yell of delight. “Hot damn,” he said. “We’re gonna kill us some terrorists tonight.”

  CHAPTER 28

  GARAAR GLANCED AT HIS WATCH and continued to pace in the warehouse. He only stopped every minute or so when he drew near to the bank of closed-circuit security monitors on his desk. He hunched over and studied the image of each camera closely before moving on to the next one. The only activity he noticed was that of the Al-Shabaab guards patrolling the perimeter. Despite the fact that everything appeared quiet, Garaar remained worried.

  At 10:50 p.m., Garaar decided to sit down after more than three hours of pacing and worrying. He opened up his Internet browser to see if he could find the latest message from Cindy. The message at the top of his inbox was a new one, denoted in a bold font. The combination of the email title along with the paper clip icon intrigued Garaar even more than usual when it came to Cindy’s messages. The title read: Tasteful Party Boat Attire? Garaar clicked on the email with delight, knowing there wouldn’t be anything tasteful about it. A grin slowly spread across Garaar’s face as he stared at the buxom blonde.

  Cindy’s attire barely qualified as clothing and, Garaar
deduced, would not likely withstand the mild rigors of a fifty-meter lap swim.

  But perhaps that is the point.

  Garaar gawked at the picture of Cindy for a couple minutes before he crafted a response to her picture, which didn’t include any message.

  That is most tasteful, Cindy. I hope you plan on wearing that when you come visit me at my yacht next week. Can’t wait.

  When Garaar pressed the send button, he glanced up at the time in the corner of the screen. He had less than three minutes before the buyer was scheduled to arrive. Checking the monitors once again, he noticed someone had arrived. He enlarged the camera to fill the entire screen, studying the faces of the men in the picture slowly. The exchange was supposed to be between him and two men representing Al Hasib. But there were six men at the door with one of his guards.

  “I don’t like this,” Garaar said aloud.

  One of the security guards he’d hired had been standing in the room for several minutes, silent.

  “What don’t you like?” the guard asked.

  Garaar jumped before he spun around to look in the direction of the voice coming from the other side of the room.

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Garaar said as he shook a finger at the guard.

  “I thought you had seen me,” the guard replied.

  Garaar stood up. “Just go get three other guards and bring them in here. I don’t like being so outnumbered.”

  “There is only one other guard in the building. The rest are patrolling the perimeter and need to remain outside.”

  “I don’t care. Call them off their post,” Garaar said.

  “But I don’t think that’s—”

  “I don’t care what you think. We have other help regarding the security of the facility that you don’t even know about. Go get three other guards, and bring them in here.”

  The guard broke into a slow jog as he left the room.

  Garaar watched him leave and then exhaled a long breath. He then wrung his hands as he struggled to gather his wits.

  “Okay, okay,” he said aloud to himself. “This is simple. I’ve done this before. Just set up the demonstration, and it’ll be fine.”

  He walked over to the sealed room where he performed the tests and made sure the guinea pig was still awake and ready. After that, he rushed back into his office and cued up the video he’d previously sent to Karif Fazil to gauge his interest. But Garaar figured it would make for a more convincing presentation.

  After a few moments, the guard returned with three other men.

  “We’re here, sir,” the guard said.

  “Good,” Garaar said. “They’ll be here any mo—”

  The main door swung open, cutting off Garaar.

  “Sir, are these the men you were expecting?” the lone guard accompanying the visitors said.

  Garaar nodded.

  “If you have nothing else for me, I will return to my post out front,” the guard said.

  “No, you can stay,” Garaar said as he walked over to meet his guests. He swallowed hard as he studied the men and their weapons.

  “Are those really necessary, Rashid?” Garaar asked, gesturing toward the guns.

  Rashid Qureshi smiled. “Not for you, my friend.” He motioned for his men to point their guns down. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  Garaar nodded and pointed toward a projection screen descending slowly from the ceiling.

  “We came here for a product, not a movie,” Qureshi said.

  Garaar shrugged. “I know. I just thought that—”

  “Just give us a demonstration on one of your little animals, and we’ll call it good,” Qureshi said. “I don’t want to stay around here long.”

  Garaar smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. There are men stationed outside who are the best of the best when it comes to security.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Qureshi said as he snapped his fingers. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “Fine,” Garaar said as he wrung his hands again. “Follow me.”

  Garaar led Qureshi and his entourage to the sealed room before opening the case containing the Sarin liquid. Donning a mask and gloves, Garaar carefully placed a few drops of liquid into a vaporizer.

  “Make sure when you handle this that you always wear proper equipment,” Garaar said, glancing at Qureshi to make sure he was paying attention.

  Garaar slipped inside the room and placed the vaporizer into one of the hands of the glove box. He shut the door behind him and pressed a button, sealing the room.

  “Do we need to wear masks?” Qureshi asked as he shifted his weight between his feet. “If anything went wrong …”

  “This is a small amount of gas,” Garaar said. “It would mess you up, but it wouldn’t kill you. This guinea pig, on the other hand, is going to die quickly.”

  Garaar turned around to face the room before he slid his hands into the openings in the box. He proceeded to vaporize the Sarin and took a step back to watch the small little animal twitch and turn until it was dead. The whole process took less than forty-five seconds.

  “Impressive,” Qureshi said. “It is just as you said. I’ll take it.” He held his hand open, palm up to Garaar.

  Garaar held up his index finger. “Not until I get confirmation that you have sent the money to my account.”

  Qureshi rolled his eyes. “You scientists can be so finicky.”

  Garaar sighed and looked upward. “I’m first a jihadist before I’m a scientist—just like you.”

  “We’re nothing alike,” Qureshi said. He snapped then pointed at one of the men in his party who was clutching a laptop. “Make it happen.”

  The man opened his computer and started typing on the keyboard. “Can you provide me with the account number?” he asked Garaar.

  Garaar grinned and placed a business card with his account number scrawled across it along with some other pertinent personal information that could help the bank identify him. “That should be all you need.”

  Qureshi laughed. “It sure is,” he said.

  Then he pulled out his gun and shot all the guards in formulaic fashion before training it on Garaar. Slack-jawed, Garaar watched all the men supposedly protecting him crumple to the ground.

  “There isn’t going to be a transfer of funds tonight,” Qureshi said. “But I am going to test out the Sarin on you.”

  Garaar looked up at Qureshi in horror. “You can’t—you wouldn’t,” Garaar stammered.

  “You’re right. I won’t,” Qureshi said right before he peppered Garaar with four shots.

  CHAPTER 29

  HAWK REPELLED DOWN to the ground floor through an opening in the skylight. No more than twenty meters away, McGinn was a mirror image of Hawk. When Hawk’s feet hit the floor, he flicked his rope, creating some slack before he yanked it down. As he rolled up the rope, he crept across the room and hid behind a set of cabinets.

  “You read me, Wonder Woman?” Hawk said.

  “Wonder Woman? I’m flattered. Is that how you see me, Hawk?” Alex asked.

  “If you help us get out of this alive, I will.”

  McGinn, who’d also released his rope, waved vigorously, motioning for Hawk to be quiet.

  Hawk gave him a thumbs up sign.

  “What’s our situation now?” Hawk asked in a whisper.

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about Garaar,” Alex answered. “The Al Hasib team just gunned him down. But keep your head on a swivel because they’re headed your way.”

  “Roger that.”

  Hawk fixed his gaze on the doors closest to him where the terrorists would likely enter the room. McGinn had selected this room to stage an ambush because it could serve as a kill box, a small enclosed area where the initiating party held the tactical advantage. In this case, Hawk and Alex had the element of surprise to go on their side along with the best position in the room from which to eliminate the Al Hasib operatives.

  While he waited, Haw
k wondered if there wasn’t a better way to seize the Sarin. With all the advanced information McGinn possessed, Hawk still wondered why they didn’t simply bar the doors from the outside and drop in some gas to immobilize the Al Hasib team. Taking possession of the gas, not to mention the elimination of the agents, would’ve been cleaner and simpler. But McGinn insisted the Al Hasib agents would have gas masks and be prepared for such an ambush. Instead, McGinn’s plan felt to Hawk as if it were the most dangerous one of all. McGinn attempted to assuage Hawk’s fears by explaining how they were going to take out some of Al Hasib’s best agents as well as eliminate Al-Shabaab’s chemical weapons expert.

  So far, McGinn was at least right about Garaar, even if they didn’t have to pull the trigger to kill him.

  “If the feed I hacked and am looking at is accurate, they should be there within the next five seconds,” Alex said, her voice crackling over the com links.

  “Is there any reason it wouldn’t be accurate?” Hawk asked.

  Before Alex could answer, Hawk watched the doorknob turn slowly and a handful of men storm in. Immediately, Hawk could tell they were the Al Hasib agents he’d seen from the security cameras that Alex had hacked within minutes of arriving on location.

  As the door swung open, McGinn unleashed a flurry of bullets on the Al Hasib agents. Hawk had told McGinn to wait until the men were boxed in between them and had no opportunity to escape without walking through the line of fire.

  Screw it.

  Hawk joined McGinn in riddling the men with bullets, an ambush that initially appeared to be a rousing success. A faint grin spread across Hawk’s face as two, three, then four operatives collapsed to the ground. Loud moans filled the room as the men grappled with the reality of their situation. Hawk inspected the agents, searching for the case of chemical weapons.

  “Do you see the Sarin?” McGinn called from across the room.

  Hawk turned the lights on and began removing weapons from the dying men’s hands. One man writhing in pain begged Hawk to shoot him, and Hawk obliged. But still no weapons case.