Alex configured the monitors with her desktop before firing up her laptop as well. She took fifteen minutes using Blunt’s codes to hack into the NSA’s satellites to zoom in on the coordinates Hawk had given her. At the moment, there didn’t appear to be much activity in the area. The port appeared relatively quiet with only a fishing vessel docked. She took note of the oddly-shaped lifeboat that was secured just off the top deck.
“That looks like a cigarette boat,” she said to herself. “This has to be the ship Al Hasib is going to sail away in with the weapons because that lifeboat is plan B. It’s not going to save anyone but the person driving away in it with some of the goods.”
Dropping a pin on the harbor, she panned back and searched the rest of the area. She was hoping to spot Hawk well in advance and pray that an idea struck her so she could communicate with him. But he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
However, she wasted no time in identifying a three-truck military convoy humming across the desert toward Khabas.
There they are, on their way to arrest one of their own citizens who is truly on their side. Disgraceful.
She made note of the position for the trio of vehicles, which were about a half hour out from the port. Pulling the field of view back again, she searched for Hawk’s transport truck. Still nothing.
Alex still had some work to do with the information she’d recently collected from Oliver Ackerman. Though the possibility that none of what she was about to do would matter in a couple of hours, she had to try. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as her strokes were focused and intentional. She knew what she was doing.
He’s going to hate this, but I don’t care.
When she finished, Alex glanced back up at the screen and noticed that the Rangers were almost to the port. Meanwhile, two trucks had stopped near the meeting point, parking on the top of a ridge. From that vantage point, the drivers could likely see everything down to the water.
That has to be where Hawk is.
But she quickly realized he couldn’t see the U.S. military vehicles that had taken up a position behind a nearby warehouse, using it as cover. When Alex panned back, she could see all the players involved. From what she could tell, the Rangers were in prime position to intercept Hawk if he ventured down to sell the weapons. But she wasn’t sure about the terrorists. Al Hasib agents moved cautiously around the docks. They didn’t act suspiciously, but they appeared more business-like than a normal crew of a fishing vessel docked would be. The merriment and joking that would have accompanied crew members at a port with a chance to get their feet on dry ground was gone. Instead, men hustled around the docks, moving boxes and crates around to make room for a shipment of goods. Talking was kept to a minimum, sounding more like the barking of orders from time to time than good-natured fun.
Alex glanced at the clock. One hour until the exchange.
Think, Alex. Think. You can do this.
She paused and wondered aloud. “What would Hawk do?”
Alex chuckled as she considered the answer to her own question.
“He’d probably give me some encouraging word that he first found in a fortune cookie somewhere and sell it as his own.”
Seconds later, the lightning idea hit Alex. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened. She needed to hurry if her plan was going to stand a chance.
CHAPTER 19
Khabas, Oman
FROM THE PASSENGER SEAT, Hawk looked up at the cloudless sky littered with stars. With the window rolled down, he felt comfortable amid the dissipating warmth. The northern coast of Oman had a well-documented reputation for unbearable heat, and Hawk appreciated the fact that his mission had been assigned under the cover of night.
“You almost forget how many stars there are when you live in the city,” Hawk said, his eyes still scanning the heavens.
“They make you feel quite insignificant, don’t they?” Ray said.
Hawk shrugged. “Any type of status we esteem to ourselves is nothing more than self-importance. If you never think more highly of yourself than you should, you never feel all that insignificant.”
“You’re quite the philosopher, Hawk.”
“I fancy myself as one. But maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time hunkered down waiting out the enemy.”
“That’s not gonna happen tonight,” Ray said. “You’re going to go down there and meet him face to face.”
The port came into view in the valley below before Ray pulled off to the side of the road.
“This is the end of the line for us,” Ray said. “You’re gonna take it from here.”
Hawk turned and studied his friend’s eyes. They drooped and sagged, maybe from a long day of driving—though Hawk wondered if Ray’s weariness could be attributed to something else.
“You’re still with me on this, right?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah, you bet,” Ray said, his voice monotone.
“I mean it, Ray. I need to know that you’re with me a hundred percent or else I’m just gonna take the money and run.”
“Maybe that’s what you should do anyway.”
“Fifty grand is a nice haul, but I won’t get far on that—and I’ll struggle to work again.”
“Chuck Pearl might struggle to work again, but you can just reinvent yourself. A new name, a new background, a new start. If I were you, I wouldn’t think twice about it.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re thinking twice about helping me? Is that what this is about?”
Ray pursed his lips and looked at the floorboard.
“It’s not like that, Hawk. It’s just that—”
“It’s just that what? Now’s not the time for subtle nuances. I need the cold hard truth. So dish it.”
“I can’t help you,” Ray said. “I just can’t do it. I have too much to lose if I go out on a limb like this.”
Hawk sighed. “What happened to you, Ray? You were a patriot once and now—just look at yourself, slumming for this self-important jerk in Oman. You’re a Navy Seal, not somebody’s lackey. Make your break right now from him and let’s take down Al Hasib and Karif Fazil in the most glorious way possible. Restore some honor to your name. Do what you’re best at.”
“Unfortunately, I am doing what I’m best at—maximizing my profits while minimizing my risk.”
Hawk remained silent for a minute as he stared out the window.
“Don’t make me do this alone,” he said.
“You don’t have to do it at all,” Ray said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Just go. I’ll handle it from here.”
“No, I need to see this out. I need to take down Al Hasib once and for all. And if it means I don’t make it out alive, then so be it. At least I went down swinging, which is more than I can say for your sorry ass right now.”
“So now you’re trying to shame me into helping you?”
“My call to arms didn’t work,” Hawk said. “I had to try a different tact. But I see you’ve dug your heels in here. That’s your choice, but I’m disappointed. You told me yesterday that you’d help. But here you are going back on your word.”
“I’m trying to help you here.”
“What would help me is if you did what you said you were going to do.”
Ray climbed out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side.
“She’s all yours now, Hawk. Just go do whatever it is you’re going to do. I’ll be watching from here.”
Hawk slid over into the driver’s seat.
“And good luck, Hawk.”
Hawk shook his head and jammed the truck into drive before stomping on the gas. With Ray unwilling to help, Hawk decided he would take his chances with a solo mission. He had placed several tracking devices on the weapons and in the containers in hopes that they would lead him straight to Fazil’s latest hideout. Once Hawk had a chance to scope out the Al Hasib stronghold, he’d figure out a way to lure Fazil out into the open so he could capture him and deliver him to U.S. military forces, preferably wi
th an audience. Conducting such a mission without Ray’s help would be far more challenging, but Hawk concluded his other choices would mean four more years of Michaels, four more years of living on the lam, and four more years of not seeing Alex. To Hawk, that wasn’t an alternative he could live with.
The truck rumbled down a steep incline toward the harbor, which was surprisingly well lit. Hawk considered for a moment that conducting an illegal weapons exchange in plain sight was dangerous, but in Khabas, Oman, who would really care that much? Every potential law enforcement officer or military personnel was likely paid off already and well versed in the art of turning a blind eye.
Hawk came to a stop and turned right, following the signs for the seaport. He didn’t get more than a half-mile farther down the road before he noticed a roadblock up ahead. Ray had left him proper documentation, but the closer Hawk got, the more his uneasiness grew about the situation.
What is a roadblock doing here at this time of night?
That’s when Hawk recognized the military vehicle used to block the road as one belonging to the U.S. military.
Damn it. I’m being set up.
In an instant, everything became clear to Hawk. What he’d identified as reluctance on the part of Ray was actually guilt. Ray was trying to deal with his betrayal of a former colleague. Despite their differences, a strong bond still existed—and Hawk realized Ray was struggling with his decision.
Hawk slammed on the brakes and threw the truck into reverse. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he wasn’t about to drive straight into military custody. Before he could complete a three-point turn and change his direction, the truck being used for the road accelerated after him.
Stomping on the gas pedal, Hawk gripped the steering wheel, his hands starting to hurt from the pressure he exerted on it. His eyes bounced between the desolate road ahead and his rearview mirror. The truck was gaining on him and he had no real options.
In a moment of desperation, Hawk maneuvered his truck off the road and across the desert sand. The truck tailing him did likewise. Both vehicles bounced along for about a mile before a rockier terrain prevented Hawk from going any farther. He tried to back out of the pocket he’d driven into, but the trailing truck roared up from behind and trapped him.
Several moments later, a pair of Humvees joined them in a strong show of force. Hawk threw his head back and screamed in frustration.
A pair of armed soldiers approached Hawk, keeping their guns trained on him. Hawk raised his hands in surrender.
“I’m unarmed,” Hawk said as one of the soldiers opened the door.
A guard snatched Hawk by his shirt and dragged him out of the truck.
“Take it easy, man,” Hawk said. “I’m going peaceably here.”
“The irony,” the Army Ranger said. “The man selling weapons to one of the most deadly terrorist forces on the planet is going peaceably.”
“What is this all about?” Hawk asked.
“Perhaps you’re the one who should be answering that question yourself. We’re not the ones trying to sell weapons to Al Hasib.”
“What are you talking about? You have no proof of that.”
The soldier chuckled and shook his head. “We actually have a truckload of proof. Now, hands behind your head.”
Hawk complied with the order before a pair of handcuffs was ratcheted down on his wrists.
“The great Brady Hawk finally arrested,” one of the soldiers said. “I didn’t think it’d be so easy or that he’d look so harmless.”
“All those stories must be embellished.”
Hawk glared at them. “I can assure you that they’re not.”
“Great. You can tell them to me all over again during our transport back to the U.S. The president wants to talk with you personally before you’re turned over to the judicial system.”
“President Michaels?” Hawk asked.
The soldier nodded. “The one and only.”
“President Michaels wants to see me?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
“Don’t you find that odd?” Hawk asked.
“Not any more odd than a former Navy Seal trying to peddle weapons to Al Hasib in Oman during the middle of the night.”
The guard shoved Hawk in the back, forcing him toward one of the Humvees.
When Hawk stepped inside, his mouth went slack-jawed at the sight of Ray.
“I tried to warn you,” Ray said.
Hawk narrowed his eyes. “How could you do this to me?”
“Just following orders.”
“Whose orders?”
“The president of the United States. Now, I’ll be right back. I have to go deliver some weapons as promised to some terrorist friends of mine.”
Hawk watched as Ray climbed out of the vehicle and jumped behind the wheel of the weapons truck. As he drove away, he gave a mocking salute to Hawk.
“Where’s he going?” Hawk asked.
“He’s going to finish the mission,” a soldier said.
CHAPTER 20
Washington, D.C.
MICHAELS STUDIED SEVERAL PAPERS written by his aides as he wound down his day. The latest poll had him ahead of Braxton by 10 percentage points. Once the electoral college projections were factored, Michaels’ lead swelled to a commanding 130 votes more than his opponent. Most political pundits were on the verge of suggesting that the presidential race was already over. By virtue of Michaels’ big lead, he could focus on policies rather than partisan politics.
A knock on the door interrupted him as he looked up to see David Kriegel poking his head inside.
“Catching up on the latest poll numbers?” Kriegel asked.
Michaels shook his head. “I’ve got more important issues to attend to, like shaping the direction of the nation for the next four years.”
“So you have seen the most recent reports, haven’t you?” Kriegel said as he strode over to the chair in front of Michaels’ desk.
Michaels smiled wryly and set his papers down. “I may have taken a peek at them earlier today.”
“Well then, are you ready for some more good news?”
“I’ve always got time for that.”
“Just heard back about your mystery accuser. Turns out she’s quite prolific when it comes to getting arrested. Her rap sheet is several paper reams long with her latest arrest for driving under the influence with cocaine in her system. She’s being cued up to be featured prominently on the news next week if she continues these allegations.”
“What you’re saying is that everyone will dismiss her as a nutcase?”
“There will always be a handful of people who would believe some story like that, but I’m pretty sure this one won’t see the light of day.”
“Good work. Anything else?”
“I saved the best for last.”
Michaels leaned forward, his hands clasped together and resting on his desk.
“Don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
“I just received a call from the Pentagon. The Army Rangers captured Brady Hawk in Oman attempting to sell weapons to Al Hasib.”
Michaels shook his head. “Hawk has some nerve, doesn’t he?”
“My favorite part is that they weren’t even weapons from Colton Industries.”
“Let’s get that going in the cable news cycle, shall we? More stories like this should bolster my poll rankings. I may not even have to stump that much the way things are going.”
Kriegel held up his finger. “Let’s wait on this Hawk capture for a couple of days. We’ll get much better optics on this story on Monday after your debate with Braxton, which is supposed to center around national security. But Tuesday morning, we’ll hit this hard.”
“Excellent idea,” Michaels said as he pumped his fist. “I love it. I’ll hammer away at Braxton Monday and then Tuesday we serve up results.”
“I’m glad you approve. I’ll get everything together, including some official U.S. Army video to go along with t
he story when we release it.”
“How the mighty have fallen,” Michaels said.
Kriegel excused himself, leaving Michaels alone with his papers. He could sense victory finally arriving and the man who’d been one of the biggest banes of his political career would go away forever.
And J.D. Blunt, you’re next.
CHAPTER 21
Brighton, England
ALEX WATCHED EVERY moment of the capture unfold on her monitor. Her face flushed red with rage as she watched the Army Rangers swarm around Hawk’s vehicle and stick him in one of their Humvees. Meanwhile, she continued to type furiously on her laptop. After a few more minutes, she took a break to call Blunt. She needed to vent with the only person who would understand.
“I tried,” she said after he picked up the phone.
“What happened?” Blunt asked.
“I tried to warn him but he left before I could respond back to him, and he walked right into the trap Michaels laid for him,” she said as she fought back tears.
Alex wanted to scream or curl up in a ball and cry until there were no more tears left—both options sounded appealing to her in the moment. But there wasn’t time for that.
“Try to keep it together, Alex. We’ll figure a way out of this.”
“What do you think is going to happen? Is Michaels going to suddenly have a change of heart and let Hawk walk free?”
“Hawk did the same to Michaels. Maybe he’ll return the favor?”
“Are you even hearing yourself, J.D.? Michaels is a mad man with no intention of doing anything favorable for Hawk, especially now that the cat is out of the bag regarding Michaels’ true intentions. Make no mistake, Michaels is going to do whatever he can to silence Hawk.”
“Sadly, I know you’re right, but that doesn’t mean something couldn’t change. Perhaps Michaels will require services in the future. Not even Michaels is a big enough fool to pass up utilizing Hawk in that manner.”
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