Brady Hawk Series, Books 4-6

by R. J. Patterson

  “Okay, good. That buys me some time.”

  “What do you need now?”

  “I need to know how to build a pipe bomb.”

  “A pipe bomb?” Alex said with a gasp. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Just call up some directions. I don’t really need to build a bomb, just something that looks like a bomb.”

  In less than ten seconds, Alex had step-by-step directions on how to build a pipe bomb.

  “I’m forwarding the instructions to your phone.”

  Hawk swiped open his phone and searched the closet for supplies. It didn’t take long to find a section of water pipes, presumably for restroom maintenance.

  “You’ll do,” Hawk said as he picked up the foot-long piece of pipe.

  He returned to his phone and looked at the rest of the supply list. In less than sixty seconds, Hawk had built something that looked like a pipe bomb.

  “Okay,” Hawk announced. “Which way to Sarkis’s gate?”

  “You’re done already?”

  “Under the circumstances, it’ll have to do. Now, left or right?”

  “Go right when you exit,” she said. “His gate is about four hundred meters ahead on the left.”

  Hawk opened the door slowly and slipped back into the flow of traffic. He’d expected to find everything in chaos. Instead, it was business as usual. Wherever the security guards had gone to, it wasn’t around Hawk.

  Balancing speed with his ability to move undetected, Hawk pushed the envelope on both sides. He looked at his watch, revealing that boarding had already commenced for flight.

  Lufthansa Flight 2326 from Vienna to Tel Aviv had only welcomed elite first class passengers. Hawk hoped that Sarkis wasn’t the savvy world traveler and was stuck in coach somewhere.

  After rounding the corner and spotting Sarkis, Hawk abandoned his efforts to go unnoticed and seized on his last chance to pry the list from the Al Hasib agent’s hands.

  “Are you with me, Alex?” Hawk asked.

  “I’m still here. Just let me know whatever you need.”

  Before Hawk could utter another word, he watched Sarkis leap over the counter and juke past a gate agent and down the jetway. Hawk followed suit, nearly knocking one of the Lufthansa employees to the ground.

  “Sorry,” Hawk said, refusing to look back as he sprinted after Sarkis.

  Sarkis darted around the corner, vanishing from Hawk’s site. Seconds later, Hawk rounded the corner and laid eyes on Sarkis, who was glancing back over his shoulder at Hawk. Sarkis ducked into the plane before shutting the door behind him.

  Hawk continued his pursuit, formulating a plan as he went since Sarkis had reduced one available option. Once Hawk reached the end of the jetway, he tried to open the door leading to the stairway. It was locked.

  “Halt,” shouted one of the security guards.

  Three men stormed toward Hawk with their weapons drawn. With his options dwindling, he considered how to proceed.

  Hawk turned around and raised his hands in surrender.

  CHAPTER 21

  ABDUL SARKIS SPRINTED through the first class cabin and raced toward the back of the plane. The aft door was open where a delivery man was mindlessly carting up a tray of tasteless bagged snacks that would be refused or ignored by most passengers. He was the only obstacle between Sarkis and freedom on the tarmac.

  The delivery man bounced his head to the beat of the song piping through his earbuds. He never saw Sarkis coming. The tray holding the snack tipped downward when Sarkis hit the man at full speed, knocking him aside. Sarkis maintained his forward gaze as he galloped down the steps and onto the ground.

  He quickly surveyed the grounds for a mode of transportation. He crouched low and crept beneath the plane, emerging on the other side where a pair of baggage handlers were tossing luggage onto the conveyor belt feeding into the jet’s cargo hold. Sarkis noticed that neither one of the men appeared to be taking their jobs very seriously, slinging the bags with little conviction. With its contents rapidly dwindling, the baggage cart was parked, yet the engine was still humming.

  Sarkis looked around once more to ensure his path to the cart was clear.

  All things considered, this must be my lucky day.

  He jammed his right hand into his pocket, fingering the flash drive again just to make sure it was still there. It was.

  Sarkis exploded out of his crouch, pumping his arms to aid his fleet-footed dash toward the baggage cart. When he got to the vehicle, he slid into the seat behind the steering wheel, studied the operating mechanisms for a moment, and then released the parking brake before stomping on the gas.

  He looked behind him and watched the baggage handlers staring slack-jawed, arms extended as if to ask why. One of them elicited a feeble demand for Sarkis to stop. Manic joy swept over Sarkis, his pulse throbbing as he knew he was far from eluding the well-trained operative in pursuit. Sarkis shot a quick glance back at the plane, and all seemed relatively quiet. No one was running across the tarmac toward him; other than the baggage handlers, no one even appeared alarmed. The airport carousel of activity hummed along as usual.

  Sarkis didn’t get much more than a brief respite from the frenzy that was bound to ensue. However, it did give him an opportunity to plot his next move and get ahead of Brady Hawk.

  Sarkis looked once more over his shoulder to see a scene that elevated his heart rate again.

  Brady Hawk had just jumped out of the jetway and landed on his feet.

  CHAPTER 22

  WHEN HAWK HIT THE GROUND, he barely winced as his feet contacted the unforgiving concrete. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he searched for any sign of Sarkis, who was his top priority. Hawk would be ready to handle the authorities at the appropriate time. With Sarkis racing across the tarmac with a flash drive that could completely disrupt the entire world’s vital espionage program against terrorists, no objective was more important for Hawk than catching the Al Hasib agent.

  Hawk stooped beneath the wing of the Lufthansa jet still idling by the gate and searched for a suitable vehicle. With one eye on the horizon looking out for Sarkis, Hawk spotted who he believed was his target. Hawk had spent enough time at airports waiting for flights that he’d studied the patterns of the busy traffic patterns just outside those large glass windows. And almost every commercial airport was the same: Routes between the planes and the baggage sorting facility were defined and direct. Such precision and order made it easy for Hawk to spot an erratic baggage cart speeding away from usual destinations.

  Without a baggage cart in sight, the only vehicle Hawk could find was a stair truck that was being used to service a nearby aircraft. He rushed over to the truck and jumped into the cab. Hawk stomped on the gas and took aim at Abdul Sarkis about four hundred meters away and steadily heading toward an exit near the far end of the airport.

  “Are you with me?” Hawk said into his coms.

  “I never left,” Alex said. “Just wanted to give you space to think your way out of this one. Not sure I could’ve been much help anyway.”

  Hawk rumbled along, selecting a direct route. He looked upward to make sure he wasn’t about to get interrupted by a descending plane. The skies were clear as far he could tell.

  “Keep an eye on the air traffic for me, will you?” Hawk said.

  “Roger that,” Alex replied.

  “Also, can you tell me where you think Sarkis might be headed?”

  “From what I can tell, it looks like there’s a service gate near the far end where he’s headed. There’s a blockade there, but he might be able to squeeze around it. But you won’t. You’re going to have to beat him to it or else he might be gone.”

  Hawk pressed his foot forcefully to the floorboard and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. If the contraption he was driving had enough power to beat Sarkis to the exit, it’d be just enough. Hawk considered what Sarkis might do. Reverse course? Force a collision? Drive through the chain link fence? There were almost too many scenar
ios to process in the shrinking amount of time Hawk had. He thought about what he would do if the roles were reversed and formulated a reactionary plan based off that assumption.

  Hawk inspected the contents on the seat next to him for a weapon. He reached into a tool bag on the passenger seat and found a wrench.

  This’ll do.

  He saw another small gym bag lying on the floorboard. Leaning down, Hawk retrieved it and emptied out the contents.

  Perfect.

  Hawk returned his full attention to beating Sarkis to the gate. As they both sped toward the destination, Hawk could tell he was gaining, but he wasn’t sure if it’d be enough. Instinctively, he pressed the pedal harder.

  He patted the dashboard. “Come on, girl. You can do it.”

  The engine whined as Hawk drew closer. Once he was within twenty meters of Sarkis, Hawk pulled his truck wider to assure they didn’t collide too early. The last thing Hawk wanted was a fiery mess that resulted in failure to secure the flash drive. He needed to leave Vienna with it in his possession.

  Ten meters, five meters. Hawk eyed the distance to the gate and was satisfied he was going to pass Sarkis and arrive in enough time to force the Al Hasib agent into an alternate route, one that would be far less desirable by any measure.

  Hawk sped past Sarkis and gave him a subtle head nod. Sarkis tilted his head back and looked down his nose as if to say that he wasn’t impressed.

  “You arrogant son of a bitch,” Hawk said to himself. “I’m gonna steal the disk and your manhood.”

  Hawk increased his lead on Sarkis and prepared to make a risky maneuver. Swinging the truck around, Hawk blocked the entrance. Sarkis swerved and hit the fence at full speed. Instead of continuing through the fence and into the parking lot, the baggage cart got hung up, entangled in a twisted ball of aluminum.

  Sarkis leapt out of the cart and rolled underneath the fence, searching for a new set of wheels. Hawk had assumed that Sarkis wouldn’t give up so easily. Slinging the small bag over one shoulder and wielding a wrench in the other, Hawk renewed his pursuit on foot.

  Sarkis weaved in and out of the employee parking area adjacent to the gate. Hawk watched as Sarkis bypassed most of the newer cars, models that would’ve taken longer to hotwire than an older one. Sarkis chose a Honda Accord, smashed the window out to unlock the car, and worked feverishly to get it cranked.

  His attempts ended futilely when Hawk grabbed Sarkis and pulled him through the shards still hanging to the Accord’s frame. Sarkis yelped from the pain as he started bleeding profusely.

  Hawk slung Sarkis to the ground and whacked him in the knee once and then in the ribs. Sarkis groaned in pain, almost enough to drown out the sirens of the fast-approaching law enforcement.

  “Where’s the drive?” Hawk demanded while he shook the wrench. “I don’t have time for games, Mr. Sarkis.”

  Sarkis looked up, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips.

  “Think very carefully about your next words,” Hawk warned him.

  Sarkis spit at Hawk. “I’ll never tell you where it is.”

  Hawk drew back and hit Sarkis in his other knee with the wrench.

  Sarkis grimaced and continued his defiance. “You will have to kill me first. I will never let you have it, infidel.”

  Hawk faked another hit with the wrench and instead used his other hand to punch Sarkis in the throat. Sarkis gasped as he clutched his side.

  “I’m only going to ask once more. Where is the drive?” Hawk asked in a measured tone.

  “Go to hell.”

  “After you,” Hawk said before delivering a wicked punch to Sarkis’s face that rendered the Al Hasib operative unconscious.

  Hawk worked quickly to locate the flash drive. The sirens drew nearer, limiting Hawk’s time to retrieve what he was after. After several seconds, Hawk dug into Sarkis’s jacket pocket and found the flash drive.

  “What’s going on?” Alex asked.

  “I’ve got the drive,” Hawk said.

  “Well, you need to get out of there now. If they detain you—”

  “What? I’ll be made? I’m not too worried about that.”

  “Blunt has warned you that he can’t help us if we get stuck in a diplomatic pickle. Choosing to speak with the local authorities is going to place you squarely in such an impossible situation.”

  After tucking the flash drive into his pocket, Hawk stared at Sarkis’s limp body, framed by a spattering of shattered glass.

  “Trust me on this, Alex. If I run, I’ll become a suspect.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “You know me. I’m always enjoy winging it.”

  Alex laughed. “Except when you don’t excel. Just remember that I won’t be able to bail you out this time.”

  Hawk shoved a metal object into Sarkis’s hand before putting it into a bag he’d taken from the truck and placing it next to Sarkis’s body. Hawk then turned his attention to the sirens wailing only a few meters away. Two police vehicles skidded to a stop as four officers spilled out and rushed over to them.

  “Halt,” the officer said.

  Hawk raised his hands slowly and looked at the quartet, who all had their weapons trained on him.

  “My name is Alistair Barrington, and I’m a field operative for MI-6,” Hawk said, mustering up his best attempt at a British accent. “This man, Abdul Sarkis, was in possession of a pipe bomb and intended to use it on his flight. I wanted to explain this earlier to the security personnel on the jetway, but I simply did not have enough time.”

  One of the officers drew near, keeping his gun aimed at Hawk. “Credentials, please.”

  “I’m going to do this very slowly,” Hawk said before he fished the fake identification badge out of his breast pocket. Once he laid his hands on the credentials, he held it out for the officer to inspect. Hawk had studied it the night before. It was an impeccable facsimile, complete with embedded information should anyone attempt to access the Interpol network for verification.

  The officer took it from Hawk’s hand, inspecting it for a moment.

  “What do you think?” he said in German as he handed it to one of his fellow officers.

  The other officer studied the document briefly and nodded approvingly.

  “Do you have proof of this?” the officer asked.

  Hawk looked deliberately at Sarkis, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. “See for yourself.”

  The officer crouched down, resting on his haunches while he unzipped the bag. Inside was the fake pipe bomb Hawk had thrown together in the janitor’s closet. The other men who’d been peering over the lead officer’s shoulders withdrew when the bomb was exposed.

  “It’s all right,” Hawk said. “It’s hardly a bother at this point, but I wanted to make sure you took possession of the weapon before he came to. He had it tucked away inside his trousers. I’m certain he’ll deny it vehemently, but you’ll find his fingerprints all over it.”

  “How did you come by this information? And why weren’t we warned in advance?” the officer asked.

  “The intel just arrived over secure channels moments before I arrived at the airport to meet a friend. Apparently, Mr. Sarkis had some business at Im Kinsky, which has now concluded. But don’t bother asking them about it, because they are notoriously guarded when it comes to the list of their clientele.”

  “How convenient,” muttered the officer. “We’ll need to take a full statement from you as soon as possible so we can get this all sorted out.”

  “I’m happy to oblige but regret to inform you that I must be on my way,” Hawk said. “I have an important meeting later this evening with a very important client, one you wouldn’t want to keep waiting. I’m sure you understand.”

  With his arms folded, the officer grunted and frowned. “I hope you understand, I also have some important people above me who won’t be pleased to hear this.”

  Hawk handed the officer a business card with the name “Allistair Barring
ton” along with his phone number embossed on it. “Do be a sport and give this to anyone who might complain. I’m certain they will understand and will find me and my organization completely compliant with any requests.”

  “Very well,” the officer finally said.

  Hawk headed back toward the terminal, leaving a flurry of activity in his wake.

  “Bravo, Hawk,” Alex said, chiding him in an English accent before returning to her native inflection. “It was like you were Veera in Dil Bole Hadippa.”

  “I wasn’t pretending to be a woman.”

  “But you were pretending.”

  “And I was good at it, wasn’t I?”

  “You were jolly well perfect,” she said with a laugh in her own faux English accent. “Ready to meet back up with Blunt?”

  “Anything to get out of this hell hole,” Hawk said.

  “Well, while I was waiting for you, I did some digging and found something that might change your mind.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Somewhere in the Bavarian Alps

  BLUNT LOGGED INTO HIS COMPUTER and noticed the flashing message on his computer, alerting him to a hefty bank transaction. Any amount above $100,000 resulted in a notification. It wasn’t that Blunt didn’t trust his team, but since Firestorm was no longer funded by the government, he needed to keep a tighter grip on the cash flow. It was a necessary adjustment to life without Uncle Sam, just like he had to keep an eye out for money-making operations. Confiscated funds of terrorists were proving to be more and more lucrative.

  He clicked on the message and gasped at the amount.

  Holy hell! Eight million dollars?

  Blunt dialed Hawk’s number to inquire about the transaction.

  “Will you please explain to me why eight million dollars was just transferred from our operating account?” Blunt said, dispensing with all pleasantries.

  “I could, but I’d have to kill you,” Hawk cracked.

  “I’m not really in a joking mood right now.”

  “Just trying to lighten things up a bit. Relax. It was for a good cause.”