Joe Hawke Series Boxsets 4

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Joe Hawke Series Boxsets 4 Page 22

by Rob Jones


  Devlin’s murder had been hard on her. They’d lost team members before and this time it was no less painful. Lea was visibly crushed when he was killed, but she had been too focused on the mission to think about it. He knew it would hit her later, like a ton of bricks. The former Irish Ranger was an old friend of hers and they had once been lovers. There was no way she could process his murder without going through a lot of pain and asking a lot of questions.

  And if that weren’t bad enough, she hadn’t even begun to deal with the impact of her grandmother’s letter. Or who she had thought was her grandmother, but turned out to be her sister. The stunning revelation of her father’s discovery of the elixir of life had shaken her to her core but the events of the last few days had shielded her from its brutal truth and enabled her to hide from it. They both knew that soon she would have to face all of this and much more.

  Some people cruised by on a boat below in the bay. They looked happy and peaceful and completely ignorant of what was really going on in the world. They carried none of the burdens he felt pressing down on his shoulders morning, noon and night and he envied them for it. They could laugh without fear and enjoy their lives. Relax with loved-ones and pursue their lifetime ambitions, when he was compelled to risk his life day in and day out to protect them from the likes of Mr Blankov and Dirk Kruger. And Otmar Wolff and the Athanatoi.

  And what drove that compulsion?

  He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

  They had killed Kruger and Blankov and their goons, but something told him there would be more bloodshed and death before they finally took the Oracle down. He glanced over the ocean and felt a shudder when he considered which of the team would die next in the cause. It was too dark to contemplate and when Lea walked over to him he put the thought out of his mind. It was what they did and that was all there was to it.

  “Hey,” she said and peered over the cliff.

  “Hey.”

  “Thinking about jumping?”

  He gave her a sideways glance and smiled. “I’m sorry about Danny.”

  Her face straightened. “Me too, but he knew what he was getting into.”

  She was putting on a front which he knew would crack sooner or later and when it happened he wanted to be there for her.

  “Why’s your hand moving around in your pocket like that? Ireland’s not that pretty.”

  She could still joke. A good sign.

  He pulled out the box and she gasped. He didn’t need to say anything. Before he had even opened it, she said yes and kissed him on the mouth. The swallow leaped from the wire and flew away into the sky. The sun finally slipped below the watery horizon and a chill wind whipped up from the water.

  She wiped a tear from her eye and laughed and he put the ring on her finger. “And about bloody time, too.”

  They laughed and kissed again. She was right – it was about time and now as the stars came out over the bay he knew he’d made the right decision.

  EPILOGUE

  Magnus Lund watched Sir Richard Eden cross the floor of his study and pick up the report on his desk. Before the coma he was one of the strongest men he knew, but for the time being at least he was dependent on a cane. Eden shuffled back over to Lund and handed him the file.

  “And you’re certain about this?” Lund said as he flicked through the papers.

  Eden collapsed down in a soft leather chair and sighed. “All the post-mortem notes are in there, Magnus. The bullet which killed Devlin was marked.”

  “Which page?”

  “At the end.”

  Lund flicked through some more pages until he saw a series of high-definition macro shots of the fatal projectile. A single word was etched neatly into the lead: DEVLIN. Scratch marks from the calibrated barrel crossed through it diagonally, but it was still clear enough to read. As clear as day, just as the message it was intended to send.

  “This is a bad development, Richard.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  “Any ideas who the shooter was?”

  “No. That bullet is probably the most forensically examined object in the history of the science. We know the exact round and the exact weapon that fired it, but it refuses to tell us who squeezed the trigger.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You haven’t turned the page yet.”

  Lund flipped over the page and gasped. He was looking at another series of photos of the other side of the bullet that killed Devlin. Etched into it were two more words: WHO’S NEXT?

  “We’re in trouble, Richard. This is a vendetta.”

  “It’s a professional hit and whoever is behind it is clearly planning on taking out the entire ECHO team, probably including us.”

  Lund felt the blood drain from his head and he started to feel dizzy and a little sick. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It’s happening, Magnus and get a hold of yourself.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s different for you. You’re a military man. The idea of being hunted by a sniper of this skill is… terrifying to me.”

  “I’m not exactly thrilled by it myself.”

  Lund stared down at the picture of the bullet.

  Who’s next?

  He closed the file with trembling hands.

  Who’s next, indeed.

  THE END

  LAND OF THE GODS

  (Joe Hawke #11)

  Rob Jones

  CHAPTER ONE

  Davis Faulkner peered over the top of his stylish browline glasses, a sinister smirk slowly taking up residence on his lean, hungry face. “I like it, Josh. I like it very much. We’re sure we can make this stick, right?”

  Joshua Muston gave a curt nod to the Vice President. They were sitting in the VP’s formal residence at 1 Observatory Circle two miles northwest of the White House. Almost low enough to touch, a heavy bank of slate-gray cloud was skidding over the city, and rain lashed at the window. “We’re sure, Mr Vice President.”

  The smirk grew bolder as Faulkner’s eyes crawled once again over the document Muston had just handed him. He was looking at his assistant’s personal copy of the US Constitution, specifically Article II, Section 4.

  The President, Vice President, and all civil Officers of the United States shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other High Crimes and Misdemeanors.

  Faulkner gave a sigh of satisfaction. The attempt to blow President Jack Brooke right out of the sky while taking off in Air Force One over England had failed, and so had the more recent attempt to take him out during the Five Eyes Conference in Miami Beach. At each turn, ECHO had thwarted his bid to remove the president and assume power but the manifest beauty of this plan was obvious.

  After so many years of waiting, it was about to happen.

  He jabbed at the worn cover of the leather-bound book in his lap. “ECHO can’t stop this, Josh. That’s why I like it so much. Not only that, but we can get to them in the process.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If we can’t get to them in the meantime, when we remove Brooke from office, the god-damned ECHO team will crawl out of the woodwork to save their man. Then we get them too. This pleases me very much.” His voice started to trail away, a nervous tremor gently shaking his words. “I don’t like to disappoint him.”

  Muston offered an anxious smile. He was uncomfortable when his boss talked about him, a distant figure of power Faulkner sometimes mentioned in passing but never elaborated on.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Faulkner sniffed. “Treason then?”

  “We can’t prove treason, Mr Vice President.”

  Faulkner was visibly deflated. “Damn it all. Why the hell not?”

  “Way too much work to cook the books on that one, sir. The Constitution’s definition of treason is remarkably narrow, specifically to stop people…” he paused, and swallowed uncomfortably.

  The VP fixed a fiendish stare on his Chief of Staff. “To st
op people using it as a political weapon, Josh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Article III, Section 3 is very clear on this,” he said, licking his dry lips as he read from the tiny book. “Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid or comfort.” He looked up at Josh again. “And we can’t get the son of a bitch on that – giving our enemies aid or comfort?”

  Muston shook his aching head. “Just too hard to cook something up in that area, like I said. I think we’re looking at something in the high crimes and misdemeanors ballpark, sir. I already assembled a small team of constitutional legal experts and they think that we can manufacture something in that area that will get him out of the Oval Office and into a whole mess of trouble for a long time.”

  Faulkner was silent.

  “Sir?”

  The sinister smile now grew sly. “I’m not so sure about the treason thing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What about all those executive orders? He signs those things like checks, and we know he’s given financial and weapons support to ECHO, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “ECHO is not a United States operation, Josh.”

  “It has US citizens in it.”

  “Still not a US project. ECHO is an international operation run out of London.” He cut off the end of one of his famous cigars and swiped a chunky gold lighter from his desk. Grind of flintstone and a burst of sparks, a metallic clunk as he flipped the lid down and tossed it back onto the desk.

  Dragging the smoke through the long, expensive cigar, he leaned back in his leather captain’s chair and swung his boots up on the desk. “I don’t think it’s the craziest thing in the world to paint ECHO as a terrorist organization, and then…”

  Muston winced. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “C’mon, Josh! This has been my thinking for a long time.” He was lying. It had been the thinking of the man pulling his strings, the Oracle – but Joshua Muston had no need to know it.

  “Seems too risky.”

  “Seems like you’re losing your nerve.”

  Muston sighed and flicked aimlessly through the book in his hands for a few seconds to buy some time.

  “Well?”

  “It could work, but you’d need to make a clear case that ECHO was an international terror group who had actively attacked the United States. Then you’d need a paper trail linking all that shit right up to the Oval Office.”

  “Wrong, you would need to do it, not me. That’s what I pay you for.”

  “Yes, sir.” He shook his head and blew out a trembling breath.

  “The attempt to blow him up while he was flying on Air Force One over England failed, and the attempt to drown him in Miami with the tsunami failed. They failed because the ECHO team are good… damned good, but what we’re doing is playing on their home turf, Josh. This way is my way. The first those assholes will hear about anything is when Brooke is done and dusted and out of this office. If we can take ECHO out at the same time, what a glorious side dish that would be.” Another deep drag on the cigar, and the smoke clouded in his mouth like a white fog in a tunnel.

  Josh shifted in his seat and fiddled with his hands. “The problem we have is most Americans – and people all around the world – see ECHO as the team that saved the President’s life from Kiefel. They’re heroes.”

  “Wrong! From now on they’re treasonous rats, Josh – and you’re gonna prove it, and fast. I want Brooke’s desk and I want it now. How is the kill order you put on them working out? I hope you arranged the full package just like I said.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s going just fine, but I still say the full package seems a little excessive.”

  “When you cut the head off a snake, Josh, that head can still bite you. You have to crush it. When you take out a team like ECHO, you make damned sure you take out all their friends and families for the same reason. The full package does that, it will be as if none of them or anyone they ever knew existed.”

  Josh nodded.

  “Good, and now I’m ordering you to make a case against Brooke for aiding and giving comfort to an international terrorist group. A case tighter than a hangman’s knot on execution day – you got it?”

  Joshua Muston gave another curt nod.

  He got it, but he didn’t like it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Athens was enjoying a long, heavy rainfall. In the middle of a drought it was a welcome relief and many people walked outside in the rain just to feel it on their bodies. All across the ancient city, children played in the puddles and danced in the downpour. Among this excitement, the ECHO team were standing under the shelter of a bitter orange tree opposite the Theatre of Dionysus.

  High above them, the Acropolis was still sealed off and under repair after Kruger’s helicopter assault on the rocky outcrop. Hawke was studying the scaffolding over the south side of the Parthenon when he heard a heavy car pull up on the cobblestone surface of Dionysiou Areopagitou behind them. Turning, he saw Sir Richard Eden and Magnus Lund stepping out of a chauffeur-driven Mercedes limousine.

  He nudged Lea’s elbow. “Heads up.”

  She watched the two men extend umbrellas and walk into the ancient ruined theatre. It was good to see her old friend back on his feet after the long recovery from the coma and especially nice to see he no longer needed a cane to walk. After her father’s murder, Eden had stepped into his shoes and looked after her when she was growing up. Through a rocky childhood and turbulent teenage years, he’d always been there on the end of a phone. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and smiled. “Good to see you, Rich.”

  “It’s good to be back,” he said.

  “You’re feeling all right now?” Lexi said.

  “Yes, thank you Cairo.”

  For a moment they thought he’d made a mistake, but then they saw the look on his face and they all burst into laughter.

  “Funny.” Reaper gave a nod of appreciation at the gag.

  Ryan frowned. “Hey – I make the jokes around here!”

  “Do you?” Scarlet said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Ryan raised his middle finger. “You’re much more aggressive when you’re starved of sex, Cairo – do you know that?”

  “If I’m starved then you’re in the middle of a famine.”

  Another peal of laughter, but Scarlet was missing Jack Camacho and Ryan had hit a nerve with his comment. The former CIA man had traveled back to the US after Alex Reeve had contacted them. The president’s daughter had heard rumors about some sort of plot in Washington DC and Eden had decided it would be prudent to send her some back-up.

  With laughter still in the air, Eden moved things along and introduced the sombre man beside him. “Magnus Lund here you already know.”

  They exchanged a polite nod with the enigmatic Dane. “So let’s move straight to business,” Lund began. “We found your story about the Alexander Codex very interesting indeed and I can only wish you’d had longer with the text before Dirk Kruger stole it. Using what little information you were able to extrapolate from the text before losing it, we know there is a Citadel, some kind of ancient power base used a capital city long before human history as we know it was capable of building such a place.”

  “Which is mind blowing stuff,” Eden said. “I think we can all agree on that, and we also know that access to the Citadel’s gateway can only be had with the use of eight golden idols. We have those idols, but the location of the Citadel remains a mystery.”

  Lund took over. “That’s what the Codex is for. When time was running out for him on board the Anshar, Wolff sacrificed the idols for the Codex, and this is very telling. He made the snap decision that it was better to know where the Citadel was and to hide its location from us than to have the idols.”

  Lexi crossed her arms and looked down at her hand. The steel prosthetic nails were still something alien and unwelcome in her life and she tucked them under her
arm to keep them out of view. Everyone knew the torture she had undergone in China, but they still made her self-conscious. “Makes sense. There’s no point having a key to a door if you don’t know where the door is.”

  “Right,” Eden said, taking back over. “We have the keys, but only he knows where the door is. I suspect his plan is to locate and the secure the gateway and then divert resources to hunt us down and take back the idols.”

  Lea laughed. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

  Others joined in, but Lund didn’t share the moment. “Mr Bale, I understand you had a short time to study the Codex before Kruger snatched it in Amphipolis?”

  Ryan’s hesitant voice spoke up in the empty theatre. “Yes, but not for long. I really only had a few minutes with it.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” Scarlet said. “Why are you on this team again?”

  “And how quickly can you translate ancient Greek in faded ink on crumbling papyrus?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “As you were.”

  He couldn’t resist smirking at her as he shook his head. “As I was saying, the time I had with the Codex was limited, but it wasn’t all a waste of time.”

  Reaper rubbed his hands together. “This is where things get interesting.”

  “The start of the Codex was a description of the idols and why Alexander wanted them so badly. It details his struggle to find them, and why he took his armies over so much of the ancient world. He was hunting the idols but also a number of rings. The ring I found on Alexander the Great’s finger is one of eight, and the odds are good that those eight rings are integral to locating the Citadel.”

  “And we already have the idols to open the gateway,” Lexi said.

  “Bloody hell,” Scarlet said. “We get those rings and we’ve nailed the whole thing.”

 

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