Power Play (Titus Black Thriller series Book 7)

by R. J. Patterson

  “That’s not how this is going to work,” Black said in English, shoving Kozlov onto the couch.

  Kozlov’s eyes widened as he drew back. “No, no, no. You can’t make me go back to your CIA prison. I did nothing wrong. I—”

  “Relax, Sergei,” Black said. “I’m not going to kill you … yet. But if you want a favorable outcome, I suggest you listen closely and do everything I ask.”

  “Anything. Just don’t let me go back to that prison.”

  “I hear it’s far better accommodations than Lefortovo.”

  “You don’t know what I endured while I was there. And I couldn’t tell them what they really wanted to know.”

  Black grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and then straddled it, leaning on the back of it as he faced Kozlov. “I’m a straight shooter, both literally and figuratively. You understand what I’m saying?”

  Kozlov nodded.

  “Good,” Black said as he dug a silencer out of his pocket and screwed it onto the barrel of his gun. “I don’t have time for games. You’re either going to tell me what I want to know and I walk out of here, never to bother you again. Or you lie to me and I shoot you between your eyes. You’ll be dead almost instantly. And it’ll be a permanent condition. So you decide right now what consequences you’re willing to suffer.”

  “I swear to you, mister, that I didn’t do any of the things the American government has accused me of doing,” Kozlov said as he held up both hands. “Please, let me be of assistance to you in exchange for something I deem far more important than my life.”

  Black stroked his chin as he studied the disheveled man. Kozlov wore wire-rim glasses perched on the end of his nose. He ran his fingers through his mop of brown hair and cocked his head to one side, his eyes pleading with Black.

  “Is that your wife?” Black said, nodding at the picture on his desk.

  Kozlov nodded.

  “Where is she now?” Black asked.

  “She’s not here, if you’re worried about her coming after us. She’s had to go into hiding, and I haven’t made contact with her since I left the facility in Finland.”

  “Why should I believe anything you say? The best intelligence agency in the world says that you’re the mastermind behind a cyberattack on the U.S.”

  Kozlov sighed and closed his eyes. “Well, that’s partially true.”

  “What part is a lie?”

  Kozlov opened his eyes and pursed his lips. “I’m not who they think I am.”

  “They think you’re the infamous hacker, DarkNite. Were they wrong?”

  “I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen,” he said. “Six months of torture, and I told them over and over who the man behind the attack was, but they wouldn’t believe me.”

  “So, to be clear, you’re saying you’re not DarkNite?”

  “No, I’m not. I operate under a different name on the dark web. I’m more of what you might call a broker.”

  Black furrowed his brow. “Then you were involved with DarkNite.”

  “Only as far as connecting him with a client in search of a hacker. That’s what I do. I’m not a monster.”

  “Where is this DarkNite character?”

  “I don’t know,” Kozlov said. “I just make connections.”

  Black trained his gun on Kozlov. “In that case, you’re still dangerous. And I have a mission to complete.”

  “Please, sir, have mercy on me. You’ll be orphaning my son.”

  Black froze. “Your son.”

  “My wife is pregnant. Would you really widow her and orphan my son because I simply connect evil people together? I mean, everyone has to make a living these days.”

  Black clicked off the safety on his gun. “Sorry, man, I have to make a living too.”

  Before Black pulled the trigger, Kozlov threw his hands in the air. “Wait, wait, wait. What if I told you I could find DarkNite for you?”

  “I’d wonder why you didn’t lead with your best offer?”

  “Never lead with your best offer,” Kozlov said. “Every salesman knows that.”

  “I’m not a salesman. I’m more of a closer.”

  “Please, don’t shoot. I can get you DarkNite.”

  Black lowered his weapon. “Okay, you lead me to DarkNite, and I’ll let you live.”

  “If I may, I’d like to amend that proposal.”

  “You’re pushing it.”

  “I lead you to DarkNite, you give me and my wife and my son asylum in the U.S. Then we’ll call it a deal.”

  “I’m not authorized to do that.”

  Kozlov sighed and shook his head. “I thought you were the closer, right? Wouldn’t you enjoy getting something out of me considering the CIA couldn’t crack me after six months of torture?”

  “If you’re playing me, Sergei, I can promise you that it won’t end well for you. A bullet from my gun will find its way to your head.”

  “I swear to you on the life of my unborn son that I am not lying.”

  Black eyed Kozlov closely. “How do you intend to lead me to DarkNite?”

  “I know someone who knows where he is.”

  “And where is this person?”

  “She is in St. Petersburg.”

  Black forced a smile. “Do you have a vehicle that can get us there?”

  CHAPTER 7

  Port Vila, Vanuatu

  BRADY HAWK SLUNG his pack over his back as he exited the private charter jet. Any plane that appeared to be affiliated with the U.S. government would’ve been easily identified by Charles Harris from practically anywhere on the main island. The airport wasn’t that busy, and every arrival was a major event each day.

  Hawk handed his passport to the customs agent, who stamped it and wished him a happy stay on the island.

  After Hawk found his rental car, he wondered if he could extend his stay. The weather was warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold of Washington. And the islanders seemed to wear wide smiles on their faces every minute of the day. For a moment, Hawk considered if sadness existed in a place like Vanuatu.

  Alex would love this place.

  Hawk thought about calling his handler to let her know that Vanuatu should be added to their running list of “Places They Went for Work, but Should’ve Gone for Vacation.” It had grown lengthy over the years while working for Firestorm. And so far, they hadn’t been able to visit many of them. But the island vibe made him consider moving Vanuatu near the top of their list.

  But there wasn’t anything pleasant about this trip for Hawk. He was there for one reason alone: finding Charles Harris and killing him.

  Hawk had been briefed thoroughly. The Fullgood Initiative’s aim had been to undermine the president’s administration by serving as a de facto government. Instead of being accountable for their actions, the Fullgood Initiative had been able to conduct operations however it saw fit without the president’s knowledge. Elected officials had been toppled along with entire democratic governments in free countries due to Fullgood’s actions. And it’d all been done in the name of national security, the cause that seemed to trump everything in a country fixated on avoiding the pain of 9/11 ever again.

  But Hawk knew that was a fool’s errand. The pain would be inflicted, one way or another. And often the result was one that brought about a stronger nation, a more resolute people, a united front. Efforts to avoid such misery often led to more pain, just the delayed version. Fullgood had made sure of that by creating more enemies for the U.S.

  And that’s why Charles Harris needed to atone for his actions. Getting to live out the rest of his days in peace in a South Pacific paradise seemed unfair by all accounts. That is if the reports about Harris were true.

  Hawk wasted no time in heading to Harris’s address. The small condo overlooking the water was devoid of any security, yet it offered a fantastic view of the burgeoning harbor. Sailboats lined the docks that seemed to sprawl across the bay. A few yachts dotted the seascape, but were dwarfed in number by the other boats.<
br />
  Hawk paused before entering Harris’s building, allowing the wind to whip across his face. The cool island breeze confirmed his suspicion that Vanuatu was one of the South Pacific’s hidden gems.

  Maybe another time.

  Hawk dialed the number for Harris’s apartment. After the phone rang a few times, it stopped and went to a voicemail system. Hawk hustled up the steps to the third-floor unit and jimmied the lock open to let himself in. He took a seat on the chair in the corner of the room and waited for Harris to return.

  After a little over an hour, the door unlocked and Harris strode in. Dusk had settled over the bay and Hawk was confident he was barely visible to Harris.

  Harris flipped on a few lights and then entered the living room. When he did, Hawk turned on a reading lamp, his gun trained on Harris.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Harris,” Hawk said. “We need to talk.”

  Harris narrowed his eyes as he looked at Hawk and then eased into a recliner.

  “I had a teacher once who told me that consequences were inevitable, no matter what we did,” Hawk said. “You can get away with something for a while, but eventually there will come a moment when you have to pay for your sins. For you, Mr. Harris, that moment is now.”

  Harris raised his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “Please, you have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Enlighten me, if that’s how you’d like to spend your last few moments on this planet.”

  “You have it all wrong if you think that I’m the bad guy in this story. Whoever is telling you this is lying to you.”

  Harris rubbed his bald head with his right hand, while his left hand clutched the arm of the chair.

  “Is that so?” Hawk asked.

  “I swear to you that there’s more than meets the eye.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Trite phrases aren’t going to dissuade me from completing my mission. Besides, I think I’d rather enjoy sticking around in Vanuatu for a few more days while living in your apartment.”

  “You’d be making a grave mistake. I don’t know who told you that I’m the problem, but I can promise you that there are others who are far more devious than me.”

  “Yet, you’re still devious,” Hawk said.

  Harris shrugged. “I’m sure I am, at least by some standards. But whoever sent you here to kill me has you doing the devil’s work.”

  Hawk kept his gun trained on Harris. “If you’re going to insist that you’re innocent, at least present your case to change my mind. Otherwise, I’m just going to pull the trigger and then take your little boat out for a spin.”

  Harris clasped his hands and sighed. “All I can ask for is a chance.”

  “I don’t have all day,” Hawk said.

  “Where to begin? Where to begin?” Harris said before launching into his story.

  “You tell me,” Hawk said. “I was sent here to eliminate you, a proud member of the Fullgood Initiative. If you’d like to deny that, I will posthumously lodge a complaint on your behalf. In the meantime, I’m going to give you five minutes to explain your side of the story. Otherwise, I’m going to call a spade a spade and end this obvious stalling tactic.”

  “I’m not stalling. I’m just trying to figure out what might help persuade you to see my situation in the right light.”

  “Why don’t you start with the truth?” Hawk suggested.

  “In that case, I’ll give it to you straight. I’m not affiliated with the Fullgood Initiative, but I am scared of them. They are manipulating the American public, getting the lemmings to lap up whatever disinformation they feed the media. It’s sickening and I’m more afraid of them than I am you.”

  “Right now?” Hawk asked. “In this moment?”

  “Well, since they don’t have a weapon trained on me, I suppose not. But their resolve to do more than just kill me is what I fear. Once I’m dead, you’ll walk away. My family will go about their lives tomorrow and every day until they die. But Fullgood? They’d keep me alive to watch my parents, friends, and children all suffer horrific fates. So, if you shoot me, that’s okay. That might actually be a relief.”

  “Yet, here you are, attempting to convince me that you don’t want to die.”

  “It’s survival instinct, I guess.”

  Hawk drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “So, tell me what I need to know about Fullgood, Mr. Harris.”

  “Have you ever heard of Martin Kellerman?”

  Hawk scowled and thought for a moment. “It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place him.”

  “He’s a tech executive in the bay area, founder of KindNet,” Harris said. “He has plans to bring America to its knees, and the U.S. government will be none the wiser.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “That’s not important,” Harris said.

  “No,” Hawk said, slamming his fist down on the end table. “It’s not only pertinent, but it’s the kind of information I need to determine if I’m going to shoot you or not.”

  Harris sighed and shook his head. “I can’t tell you for certain what’s going to happen. I just know that there’s a plot in the works.”

  “Months or years away?”

  “No,” Harris said. “Days away. Fullgood has major plans to put the U.S. in a tailspin, and I’m confident that whatever Kellerman is planning would do precisely that.”

  “So, are you scared of Kellerman or Fullgood?” Hawk asked.

  “They might as well be one and the same at this juncture. They’re both going to wreak plenty of havoc on the U.S., some of which we’ll be able to easily identify. Others of it will blindside us.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Stop beating around the bush. I know you’re just trying to save your ass here, but I’m not buying it.”

  “Then, what would make you change your mind?”

  “Proof.”

  Harris eyed Hawk cautiously. “What kind of proof?”

  “The only kind there is. I need you to show me that Kellerman is the threat you’re making him out to be. Otherwise, this is just a lot of smoke and mirrors to try and keep me from shooting you right now.”

  Harris shook his head. “I wish I had something that could convince you that I’m telling the truth, but there’s not. I heard a phone call between Kellerman and Col. Marshall about a month ago where they discussed how the plan would unfold. I didn’t get all the specifics, but I know that Marshall was excited.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not enough to dissuade me from carrying out my assignment,” Hawk said. “You obviously dealt with the underbelly of the Pentagon, but I can’t let you walk away based on that.”

  Harris buried his face in both his hands. “I knew this would happen. Everyone thinks I’m lying. But I swear on my mother’s grave that every word out of my mouth is true.”

  “That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?” Hawk asked.

  “I’m begging you. Please don’t kill me. And if you let me live, you can rest easy knowing that I’m going to be dead soon anyway.”

  “Are you that convinced that Kellerman or Fullgood will catch up with you?”

  “To be honest, I’m more afraid of Kellerman, the silent yet deviant assassin. But the truth is neither of them is nearly as deadly as the stage four pancreatic cancer I have.”

  Hawk froze, unsure if he should exhibit empathy or caution that he was getting played. Instead, he resorted to interviewing. “When were you diagnosed?”

  “About two months ago.”

  “How long do you have to live?”

  “Three months, maybe four if I’m lucky. This cancer is very aggressive and advanced.”

  Hawk let down his tough veneer for just a brief second. “Sorry to hear that, Mr. Harris.”

  “Please, call me Charles. Just know that I’m not lying to you, I swear. I can show you my diagnosis.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Charles. Any man deviant enough to use cancer as a way to gain empathy and leniency will get everything that’s coming to them�
�and much more.”

  Hawk watched Harris’s eyes to see if he could detect any signals that the former Pentagon official was lying. But Harris appeared cold, his stare blank, almost as if he was thinking about something else, miles away from his current conversation.

  Hawk snapped his fingers to try and recapture Harris’s attention. “Are you still with me, Charles?”

  “Oh, yes,” Harris said, flashing back to the present.

  “I thought I’d lost you there for a minute.”

  “My apologies. There’s a lot going on in my mind, some things that I can’t even set aside even when there’s a gun pointed at me.”

  “Your story is heartbreaking,” Hawk said. “But I could do you a favor, ending your life in a quick and painless way.”

  “This is my final request. If you walk away from here and let me live, you won’t be letting me run free and begin my reign of terror. I’ll be dead before you know it. You’ll forget about me and move on.”

  “What was the date?” Hawk asked.

  “The date?” Harris asked, cocking his head to one side.

  “The date you heard this alleged phone call between Kellerman and Col. Marshall. When was that?”

  “I think it was around the twelfth of December,” Harris said.

  “Think or know?”

  “Know,” Harris fired back. “It was on the twelfth, about two-thirty in the afternoon, to be precise.”

  “Stay right there,” Hawk said as he backed into another room. “I need to make a call.”

  Hawk got up and backed into a bedroom just off the hallway where he could still maintain visual with his target. Then Hawk dialed a number.

  “This is Mallory,” a woman said on the other end.

  “Mallory, this is Hawk. I was wondering if I might be able to trouble you for a bit of information.”

  “Certainly, what do you need?”

  Hawk explained what he was looking for before asking Harris for Kellerman’s number. She ran a search for Kellerman’s phone records on December 12 and found that they matched a call to the Pentagon around the exact time Harris had said. Hawk thanked her and then ended the call.

  And while it wasn’t definitive proof that Harris was telling the truth, everything seemed to be lining up.