Brady Hawk 10 - Into the Shadows

by R. J. Patterson

  When Ray emerged from his boss’s office, Ackerman followed suit.

  Wearing a grin that Hawk deemed disingenuous, Ackerman offered his hand to Hawk. The two men shook.

  “Mr. Pearl, I’ve heard some wonderful things about you from Ray,” Ackerman said, chomping on a piece of gum. “Please, let’s talk in my office.”

  Hawk nodded and strode toward Ackerman’s office.

  “Have a seat,” Ackerman said as he slipped in behind Hawk and closed the door. Walking around to the back of the desk, Ackerman sat down and leaned forward, his hands clasped.

  Hawk settled into his seat, sitting upright.

  “Did you bring your resume with you?” Ackerman asked, holding his hand out.

  Hawk gave over the documents.

  “Complete with references and their contact information, I hope,” Ackerman said.

  “Of course. It’s all right there.”

  Ackerman remained quiet for a moment as he perused the papers that Alex had meticulously prepared for Hawk. In relative silence, Ackerman’s eyes raced across the page, stopping only to arch his eyebrows or purse his lips. Hawk had yet to discern what any of the facial movements meant, but that didn’t stop him from speculating. By Hawk’s count, the positive contortions outnumbered the negative ones by a count of five to two. Hawk just hoped the two negative ones didn’t ultimately outweigh the positive ones.

  “You’ve done some solid work, Chuck,” Ackerman finally said as he placed the resume down on his desk. “And you seem to know your way around a weapon or two.”

  “I felt like that might be what would make me a strong candidate.”

  “Knowledge of weapons and past experience certainly bode well for you,” Ackerman said. “But that’s not all we do around here. For some of our more sensitive operations, I need to know that you’re going to handle your more discreet assignments with great professionalism—and without a word to anyone else about what you’re doing.”

  “I can do stealth as well as power,” Hawk said. “Just call me the Keiron Pollard of the private security world.”

  Ackerman’s eyes sparkled as he relaxed his posture.

  “You follow T20 cricket as well?”

  Hawk nodded. “Mostly the Indian Premier League as well as the Australian Big Bash League.”

  “I love the Mumbai Indians,” Ackerman said.

  “They’ve been winning a lot of titles lately, haven’t they?”

  Ackerman nodded. “They’re building a dynasty, which has been fun to watch.”

  Hawk smiled, sensing that he’d been able to penetrate Ackerman’s guarded self.

  “Now, speaking of champions, we have quite the team here,” Ackerman said. “And we’ve built that sense of camaraderie around our chemistry. While you have a great resume and the kind of experience we’re looking for, I’m not getting a good vibe from you.”

  Hawk scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, your credentials are sufficient, exactly what we’re looking for, to be honest. But you just don’t have that it factor I’m looking for, that little extra mojo that I see in people that they need to mesh with what we’ve already built here. Kind of like how Keiron Pollard is a great fit with the Indians but not with the West Indies national team. Make sense?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Perhaps, though I have a great rapport with Ray. We’ve got a long history together and—”

  “And, frankly, that’s what I’m not so sure about. I need my new hires to respect Ray. He leads guys into some difficult situations at times, and everyone on the team needs to both trust and fear him. Are you smelling what I’m stepping in?”

  Hawk huffed a laugh through his nose at the southern colloquial phrase.

  “I suppose, but I’m confident we can get along on the field and it won’t be a problem.”

  Ackerman stood up. “Well, I’ve already made up my mind, but if that changes or another opportunity arises, I’ll let you know.”

  He offered his hand to Hawk, who shook it and then turned toward the door.

  “So, Chuck, you’ll be staying with Ray for a while?” Ackerman asked.

  Nodding, Hawk stopped and looked back at Ackerman.

  “For a few weeks anyway. If I can’t find any work here, I’ll likely have to move on. Ray likes me, but probably not enough to let me mooch off him for a while.”

  “Well, good luck,” Ackerman said. “I’ll keep you in mind and maybe we’ll have an opportunity for you here.”

  Hawk walked downstairs, where Ray was waiting.

  “How’d it go?” Ray asked. “From the look on your face, I’d say not so well.”

  “Let’s just say our prior relationship was likely what did me in; at least that’s what Ackerman said.”

  “That’s odd. He never mentioned anything about that to me before you went in for the interview.”

  “So this is a shock to you?” Hawk asked.

  “Completely. I thought he was going to hire you.”

  “I’m at a loss then because I don’t know what could’ve made him decide I wasn’t capable of serving under you, if that was really the issue.”

  “Keep your head up,” Ray said. “I have some other local contacts who might be able to take you on and pay you under the table.”

  “I’m not sure I want to start pumping my name out there like that. It might draw some suspicion.”

  “I’ll be discreet. Don’t worry. Oliver Ackerman is going to regret not hiring you.”

  Oliver Ackerman, Oliver Ackerman. For the first time since he’d reconnected with Ray, the name of his boss rang a bell.

  That name suddenly sounds so familiar.

  Hawk couldn’t put his finger on it, but he would swear on his great grandmother’s Bible that he’d heard it once before, somewhere. And from what he could recall, the name wasn’t attached to a fond connotation. He needed Alex to dig into Ackerman’s background and find out more about him.

  Just who are you, Oliver Ackerman?

  CHAPTER 4

  Brighton, England

  ALEX’S EYES WIDENED with delight when she saw another message in the draft folder from Hawk. Their constant exchanges in their shared email account started to feel like old times to her, fulfilling the craving she had to get back to what she considered normal life—serving with Firestorm. Her foray into the corporate world had already started to take a toll on her soul. But for the moment, the drudgery was put aside and she focused on addressing Hawk’s request.

  “Dig into Oliver Ackerman?” she said under her breath. “But I already did that. I found out that he was into cricket and who his favorite team and player were.”

  She’d also compiled a brief overview of Ackerman’s career, but apparently Hawk needed more. However, the kind of depth he was asking for could potentially set off alarm bells if she was doing it from a public computer. She needed to hack into a high-powered server to access the full extent of his records. And it wouldn’t be an easy task.

  Later that evening after work, she assembled a list of the best targets for such a job and whittled down the number until there were only two remaining. After much deliberation, she landed on Golden Financial, a wealth management company. She’d met several employees from there while working at Lloyd’s, and hatched a plan to gain access to the building after hours.

  * * *

  JUST BEFORE THE CLOSE of business the next day, Alex made a delivery to one of the account executives from Golden Financial. She strode into his office and sat down for a little small talk. However, the cup of tea she brought provided her with the crucial time she needed to succeed.

  “Blueberry hibiscus,” Alex said as she placed the cup in front of Paul Wellman, the Golden Financial employee she knew best.

  “My favorite,” Wellman said, wrapping his hands around the cup. “At least, my favorite American tea.”

  “We’re still trying to catch up with the British in that culinary department.”

  “It might be the only one that you have
n’t surpassed us in at this point—though if your traitors hadn’t dumped crates of tea into Boston Harbor, things might be different on that front as well.”

  They both shared a laugh before Wellman gulped down his drink.

  “What brings you over today?” he asked.

  “Just the usual. I needed to discuss some security concerns we had with some of our clients.”

  He drank some more of his tea. “And you just decided to stop by my office and bring me tea? A bit unusual, especially for you.”

  “I normally don’t venture out much, but this was necessary. But no need to panic. I just thought since I was here, a gesture of goodwill might be in order since you were such a gentleman to me the last time we were out together.”

  Wellman chuckled and then cocked his head. “Me? A gentleman? I don’t think I quite recall what you’re referring to?”

  “You don’t? The Lion’s Pub downtown with some of your co-workers, who were hitting on me—you made them stop. Is any of this ringing a bell?”

  Wellman shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember any of it.”

  Alex shrugged. “Maybe you were drunk too, but you were quite chivalrous in your response.”

  She watched him twist his wedding band before hiding his hands beneath his desk.

  “Well, maybe you can make it up to me sometime with a stiffer drink,” he said, hoisting his cup in the air again before finishing it off.

  “You can bring your wife along as well,” Alex said.

  Wellman’s face went red before turning pale. He held up his finger and stood.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

  He hustled out of his office and disappeared.

  Fast-acting laxatives for the win.

  Alex went to work, reaching across Wellman’s desk and snatching his security card. She jammed it into a device she’d hidden in her purse and started to create a cloned copy. One of the four green lights indicating the progress blinked slowly as the card reader gathered all the information.

  A second light then began to blink.

  Come on, come on.

  She glanced into the hallway to make sure Wellman wasn’t about to walk in the room. There was still no sign of him.

  After about a minute, a third light joined in.

  Just one more minute.

  The seconds that ticked past seemed to move at glacial speeds. Alex looked once more toward the door for Wellman. He wasn’t there—but Harry Sterling was.

  “Alex? Alex Duncan? Is that you?” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  She forced a smile and nodded. “You caught me.”

  “What are you doing in Wellman’s office? You know he’s just going to refer you elsewhere,” Sterling said before looking over his shoulder and then continuing in a whisper. “He’s quite clueless when it comes to matters of security, despite what his title might suggest.”

  Alex tried to maintain eye contact and ignore the urge to glance down at her purse.

  “I think he’s rather knowledgeable,” she said.

  Sterling smiled. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?”

  She shook her head. “No, feel free to speak your mind any time—just do so at your own risk.”

  “Oh, God, I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke, right? Please don’t say anything to Wellman. I absolutely adore him.”

  “Certainly doesn’t sound like it.”

  “You Americans struggle mightily when it comes to the humor department.”

  Don’t look down, Alex. This jerk will be gone shortly.

  “We can’t be great at everything, but excel when it comes to revolutions.”

  “You’re particularly catty today,” Sterling said. “Perhaps you need to loosen up after work, maybe meet me there for a pint.”

  “We Americans are also devoted to our work—and this American has plenty to do once I finish meeting with Wellman. So, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Sterling chuckled. “Wellman’s still not here. What did he do? Fall in when he went to the loo?”

  Alex shrugged and turned back to face Wellman’s desk. She noticed that the fourth light on the card reader finally lit up. It was done. All she had to do was get the card back before he returned.

  Slipping her hand inside her purse, she grabbed the card and prepared to ease it onto the desk when Sterling plopped into Wellman’s chair. Sterling interlocked his fingers behind his head, leaned back, and propped his feet up.

  “So, tell me, Alex, what is it that you dream about at night?” Sterling asked.

  “I’m not doing this with you,” she said.

  “Doing what? It was just a friendly question.”

  “Harry, you know good and well what I’m talking about. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  “I second that notion,” Wellman said as he entered his office.

  “Finally,” Alex said. “Is everything all right? I was beginning to worry that you weren’t coming back. I received a call that I’m needed back at the office right away and—”

  “When did you receive a call?” Sterling asked. “I never saw you answer your phone.”

  Wellman swatted at Sterling’s legs. “Get those off my desk right now, you filthy swine.”

  Alex clutched the card in her hand still hidden in her purse, waiting for the precise moment to return the security card. But a good opportunity hadn’t readily presented itself. With each passing second, she felt like a spotlight was being shown on her arm that was diving deep into her purse. She felt sweat beading up on her forehead.

  Sterling grumbled as he complied with Wellman’s wishes.

  “Where is my key card?” Wellman asked as he surveyed his desk. “It was right here when I left.”

  Alex seized her chance.

  “It’s right here,” she said, leaning forward in her chair as if she was picking the card up off the floor. She then hoisted Wellman’s prized possession in the air.

  “How on earth did it end up down there?” Wellman asked.

  “Harry kicked it off when he decided to pretend to be you,” Alex said.

  “I did no such thing,” Sterling said in an attempt to defend himself. “I was very careful with where I placed my feet on your desk.”

  “You weren’t careful enough,” Wellman said as he gently shoved Sterling in the back. “You’re such a slob. Now get out of my office before I have to call someone in a hazmat suit to remove you.”

  “I knocked nothing off your desk,” Sterling said. “Your little American friend has quite a fanciful imagination. You won’t believe what she told me about her dream last night. It was quite, how should I say it—enlightening?”

  “I didn’t tell you anything, you Cretan,” Alex said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the sole reason you came by this office was to start a fight and earn a promotion simply through attrition.”

  “That’s absurd,” Sterling said.

  “Just get out,” Wellman said. He sighed and waited for Sterling to leave. He lingered in the doorway for a few moments.

  “You’re making a big mistake,” Sterling said. “I’m not your villain here.”

  “Out—now!” Maddux said.

  When Sterling finally exited the room, Wellman turned toward Alex.

  “I’m sorry you had to see all that as well as endure one of Sterling’s petulant tantrums.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for his behavior,” Alex said. “He can do that in his own time.”

  “Truly, I’m sorry about the delay. What would you like to talk about again?”

  “I hate to visit and run, but I need to get going. I received a call from my office, and I need to get back for an important meeting. Let’s talk again soon.”

  They both stood up. “Well, if there’s anything I can ever help you with, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” Alex said.

  “And what’s that?” he asked.

  “I need to ma
ke a stop in the ladies room before I leave.”

  But Alex didn’t have any intention of leaving—at least not right away.

  CHAPTER 5

  Washington, D.C.

  PRESIDENT CONRAD MICHAELS couldn’t stop smiling as he watched a report on the latest poll results. Armed with data, political pundits from both sides of the aisles bickered over what the numbers meant. The ability to spin negative news into something positive was an imperative for political operatives to survive in Washington, but even the masters of their trade couldn’t do much to reframe the dire news for Michaels’ opponent. Michaels enjoyed watching the opposing party’s minions squirm as the experts on his side gloated.

  “It’s not easy to polish a turd,” quipped David Kriegel, Michaels’ chief of staff. “That’s what my father used to say whenever I brought home a bad grade and tried to explain why. He never let me finish, interrupting me with that observation.”

  “Your father was right,” Michaels said. “When it stinks, you have to call it what it is and flush it. But those morons can’t seem to do that.”

  “They’re the ones circling in the toilet right now.”

  Michaels chuckled. “And come Election Day, the rest of the water will come swirling around them and bid them farewell.”

  Kriegel nodded. “Sounds about right—as long as we don’t get an October surprise.”

  “An October surprise on an incumbent president? Now, that’d be quite the trick.”

  Kriegel arched his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side.

  “You sure you don’t have anything else to hide?” he asked. “I’d hate to get caught off guard by—”

  “You know everything there is to know,” Michaels said. “My life is an open book, both in this office and to the American people. God knows, I’m not perfect. But our country is a forgiving bunch. And if I’ve weathered the things I have while in office, there’s nothing prior to this that’s going to spell doom and gloom on my re-election campaign.”

  Kriegel shook his head and wagged his finger. “That’s not a good approach. The minute you start to think there’s no way—boom—that’s when you get blindsided and everything goes to hell.”