When the last man dropped his briefcase on the pile, it had grown to about waist high and sprawled across the corner.
Fazil nodded at Hawk. “You’ve chosen wisely, Mr. Hawk. I commend you for your optimism, but I can assure you that you won’t have time to escape. And follow me into the subway and I won’t hesitate to release the bomb.”
Fazil produced a gas mask from his pocket. “You don’t have one of these on you, do you?”
Hawk watched helplessly as Fazil whispered something to Jafar. The bird took flight and soared above the street. Fazil waved at his bird before turning his attention back to Hawk.
“Good luck,” Fazil called before he turned and vanished into the darkness.
Hawk didn’t waste any time before springing into action.
“Where are those agents?” Hawk said. “I need them now.”
“What do you need them to do?” Alex asked.
“I need them to help me find Fazil’s suitcase and disarm the nuke before he detonates it.”
“We don’t have that kind of time,” she said. “I heard what he said. Once he gets a safe enough distance away, he’s going to come out of the subway and release the switch.”
“Well, find me some time.”
“I’m not a miracle worker, you know.”
“How far do you think he’ll have to go to be safe?”
“Everyone here at the bureau office thinks he’d head south and would likely get off at Washington Square. It’d be easy for him to disappear.”
“Well, I’m counting on you to think of something.”
Hawk motioned for the other agents to come over toward him and sort through the suitcases.
“Colton said the bomb weighed about fifty pounds, so it shouldn’t take us more than a second or two to determine the weight,” Hawk explained. “Let’s toss them over to the side and form a discarded pile. If you happen to find the right one, let me know immediately.”
Hawk and a half dozen agents sifted through the cases one by one. He had checked about twenty before he glanced at his watch.
“Alex, I had an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you hack the cell towers? Shut them down briefly. That could interrupt the signal.”
“That’ll take too long,” she said. “Besides, I thought of something better—and more efficient.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to strand him in the subway.”
“Are you sure which train he’s on? He had a gas mask. It could all be part of another one of his bait-and-switch moves.”
“It won’t matter,” she said. “I’m going to shut it all down.”
“You’re going to do this?” Hawk said as he picked up more suitcases, shaking them to determine the weight. “Why don’t you have New York Metro shut their trains down for you?”
“Not enough time—and too much bureaucratic red tape. It’s easier to do it this way and ask for forgiveness later.”
“I doubt you’ll have to ask for forgiveness if this works.”
“It better work,” she said. “You promised you were coming back.”
“Yes, I did,” Hawk said.
One of the agents yelped. “I found it.”
Hawk rushed over to the man and took the suitcase from him. In a few seconds, Hawk managed to jimmy open the lock and stare at the elaborate design. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“What is it?” Alex asked.
“Give Colton your earpiece. I need him to tell me how to diffuse this thing.”
“Okay, but work fast,” Alex said.
“Have you got the trains stopped yet?”
“Not yet—still working on it.”
Hawk stared at the intersecting wires and the flashing lights staring back at him.
“How far before his train reaches Washington Square?” he asked.
“One minute if I don’t get it shut down. Here’s Colton.”
Hawk studied the bomb. “Tell me what I’m looking at here.”
“It’s complicated,” Colton said. “So listen carefully.”
* * *
FAZIL LOOKED AT HIS WATCH. The automated voice alerted the passengers to the name of the upcoming station.
“Next stop: Washington Square.”
One more minute until Al Hasib becomes a name on the lips of everyone in the world. One more minute until the Americans regret killing my brother.
A satisfied smile swept across Fazil’s face, but the grin vanished when the train jerked to a stop in the middle of the tunnel.
“Just great,” mumbled a man. “More construction delays in the tunnels.”
“Probably because of that damn parade,” griped another woman.
“It’s getting to the point that it’s faster to walk,” a man standing behind Fazil chimed in.
Fazil pulled his phone out of his pocket and noticed he didn’t have a signal, which was typical for being stuck underground. He turned to the man behind him. “How far away from the platform are we?”
“Maybe another thirty seconds or so on the train.”
“What about on foot?”
The man’s eyes widened, and he leaned back from Fazil, studying him up and down.
“Do you have a death wish? You’d be a fool to try and run through the tunnels.”
Fazil glanced at several of his men who’d boarded the train with him.
“What are you guys?” the stranger asked. “Part of some flash mob? Man, I hate those things.”
“Rest easy, my friend. We’re part of no such thing.”
Fazil pushed his way past the man and through the crowded train car until he reached the back door. He forced it apart, squeezed through the opening, and broke into a sprint.
* * *
HAWK SNIPPED ONE OF THE WIRES and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.
“You’re doing great, Hawk,” Colton said. “Just relax.”
“What’s next?” Hawk asked. “And how much time do I have?”
“You’re going to sever the blue wire next.”
Hawk’s hand remained steady as he pinched the designated line and cut it with the scissors from his pocketknife.
“Alex wants you to know that she’s got the subway system stopped, but Fazil’s train was only one block from the platform.”
“In other words, if he got off the train, I won’t have much time.”
“That’s the assumption around here,” he said. “The FBI has dispatched a dozen agents to Washington Square, but there’s no guarantee how much time we have left.”
Hawk wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Just keep telling me what to do.”
* * *
FAZIL SKIDDED TO A STOP when he saw several flashlights combing the darkness in front of him.
He climbed between a couple cars near the front and made his way to the opposite wall. Easing along toward the platform, he ducked into a maintenance hatch and waited for the flashlights to pass. He peered through the glass portal in the door and watched until the agents were hidden on the other side of the train.
Creeping back out into the tunnel, he gently shut the door and walked several meters before breaking into a sprint again.
“Look! Over there!” one of the agents shouted.
But Fazil knew it was too late. He had a huge head start and only needed to make it to the top before they did.
Without warning, the lights in the tunnel powered back on and the train began rumbling down the tracks behind him.
Fazil pumped his arms, knowing this was his moment for glory.
“Allahu Akbar!” he said to himself as he ran.
By the time he reached the station, the train was less than a hundred meters behind him.
Fazil scrambled up onto the platform and raced toward the stairs, jumping over the turnstiles and through the confused crowd of passengers awaiting the next train’s arrival.
Hustling up the steps, he reached the top and realized his cell signal was at full strength. He quickly redialed the
number with his right hand, while his left thumb was depressed on the detonator linked to the phone. After ringing once, a connection was made and a green light flashed on the device in his left hand.
“This is for you, brother,” Fazil said.
He pulled his hand off the device and waited to hear an earth-rattling explosion north of his location.
But nothing happened.
“Come on,” Fazil said as he pushed the button again and again.
Still nothing.
* * *
HAWK COLLAPSED next to the suitcase once he severed the final wire.
“It’s finished,” he announced.
Colton relayed the message, and Hawk listened as a raucous celebration occurred in the background.
“I knew you would do it,” Alex said.
“You wrestled that earpiece away from Colton fast,” Hawk said.
“He doesn’t need it now. I think he’s going to celebrate with a few drinks and try to forget this ever happened.”
“Well, New York City would’ve been a mess without you, too. I knew you would think of something creative to buy me some time.”
“That’s all you needed, wasn’t it?” she said. “Just a little bit more time?”
“I need to start realizing that any time I have is precious.”
“Yeah, you’re not invincible, though it sure does feel that way sometimes—just not when you’re forced to disarm a nuclear weapon in the middle of Manhattan during a Veteran’s Day parade.”
Hawk stood and looked toward the street. Another float rolled by, packed with more oblivious veterans.
“This would’ve been a disaster.”
“Let’s not worry about what could’ve been,” she said. “I say we join Colton and let him buy us some drinks.”
Hawk grunted. “We’re not done yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Fazil. Where is he? We can’t let him get out of the country, much less the city.”
“Hang on,” she said. “I know he was spotted at Washington Square Park a few minutes ago. Let me see what I can find out.”
Hawk paced around the pile of suitcases and shook hands with the agents there, thanking them for their assistance. He realized just how vital each person’s contribution was or else he would’ve been vaporized.
“Just got a report,” Alex said. “And I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”
“What is it?”
“Fazil is gone.”
“What do you mean gone ?”
“They can’t find him anywhere. He vanished in the park.”
“What about his bird?” Hawk said. “Look for Fazil’s bird.”
“They already did. It isn’t there either. Fazil is gone.”
CHAPTER 33
Washington, D.C.
HAWK AND ALEX MET WITH the joint task force of FBI and NSA officials at the Pentagon one week after the near tragedy in New York. He was surprised to see Blunt present at the meeting, especially given that Blunt had been essentially held captive during the sting operation to capture William Peterson.
“What’s to become of Peterson’s son?” Hawk asked as they sat down.
“We want to try him for treason,” Justin Frazier said.
“But . . .” Hawk said, realizing Frazier wasn’t done.
“It’s political,” Frazier said. “I prefer we treat him as a traitor and get it over with quickly.”
“Well, he did invite a known terrorist into the country for the express purpose of killing innocent Americans,” Blunt said.
“And I’m assuming Peterson claims he knew nothing of the plot,” Hawk said.
“You’d be correct,” Frazier said. “The FBI would have a difficult time winning that case, but the American voters are going to act as judge and jury in this instance. If the polls are any indication about what people think, a guilty verdict will be delivered by the American people in a few days and he’ll slink back into obscurity in the political realm.”
“As it should be,” Blunt said. “How anyone could do such a thing is beyond me.”
“So, why are we here?” Hawk said.
Frazier stood. “We know that the Firestorm team is one of the better kept secrets over the past few years in Michaels’s administration.”
“I hope you intend to keep it that way,” Hawk said.
Frazier nodded. “Of course, but we also want to offer our assistance whenever possible.”
“You mean like not trying to hunt me down when I re-task satellites for missions vital to our nation’s security?” Alex asked.
“Exactly,” said the FBI’s Richard Paxton. “And I’ve been told to pass along apologies to you for that.”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t blame you really. It’s not like I was exactly acting within the confines of the law.”
“Yes, but in the future, we want to give you clearance, not make you hack our system and redirect satellites,” Frazier said. “We need to expand the Firestorm team.”
“I see what you’re getting at, and my team isn’t answering to anybody else,” Blunt said.
“Now, J.D., wait just a—” Frazier said.
“No, Justin, we’ve been friends for a long time, long enough for me to know what’s going on here,” Blunt said. “If you want to give Alex access to your systems so she doesn’t disrupt everything when she hacks into it, fine. But we’re not going to notify anyone about what we’re doing. I’ve found that in the world of espionage and subsequent assassinations, a small closed loop is the best loop of all.”
“Don’t be so closed-minded,” Paxton said. “See how well we all worked together.”
“It worked this time,” Blunt said, “but it was a risky proposition. For God’s sake, you guys arrested me and made me look like a fool to the nation.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Frazier said.
“Yeah—and the apology and exoneration you issued will likely only be seen by about half of the people who read or heard about my original arrest.”
“Settle down, J.D.,” Paxton said. “This isn’t about you.”
“No, it’s about my country and the fact that we have to even have an outfit operate like this because there are always messes to clean up.”
A woman knocked on the door and interrupted the meeting, whispering something in Frazier’s ear.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Apparently, someone needs to speak with our good friend Brady Hawk right now, and it’s a conversation that can’t wait.”
Hawk stood and strode toward the door. “Who wants to talk with me?”
“It’s the president, sir,” the woman said as she led Hawk down the hallway to an unoccupied office where he could take the call.
Hawk settled into the chair and picked up the phone.
“Mr. President,” Hawk began. “So nice of you to call.”
Noah Young moaned. “So nice of you to save New York City last week. If you didn’t need to remain so anonymous, I’d commemorate what you did by putting your face on some U.S. currency.”
“Those are kind words, sir.”
“And I mean them,” Young said. “You saved my bacon, too.”
“How did I do that?”
“It’s a long story, but Peterson would’ve had me for lunch if the truth about what was going on with his live streaming event with the Russian ambassador ever leaked to the press.”
“I guess we should be grateful that it didn’t,” Hawk said.
“Very grateful indeed.”
“So, what’s next, other than a rapidly approaching election?”
Young chuckled. “I’d love to wait until I take office to dispatch you to the Middle East again, but I’m afraid we don’t have time. Fazil’s latest brazen attempt to attack us on our own soil has me concerned. We narrowly avoided an unmitigated disaster, and this isn’t the first time we’ve been able to do that. You’ve done a great job serving your country in this way, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to succeed every time.”
“So, what are you getting at, sir?”
“I want you to take the fight to him,” Young said. “Go beat him on his home turf. Do whatever it takes to make sure he goes away for good.”
“I’d love to do that for you, sir. But I do have one request.”
“Name it.”
“We need more resources. Gadgets, money, any technology to help us get an advantage for catching Fazil and putting an end to Al Hasib.”
“Done,” Young said. “You send me a list, and I’ll make sure everything you need is put at the fingertips of you and Alex.”
“And when do you want us to start?” Hawk asked.
“I’ve got a plane fueled up and waiting for you whenever you’re ready to leave.”
Hawk pumped his fist. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
He hung up and walked back into the meeting room.
“I hate to cut this meeting short, but the senator and Alex need to come with me immediately,” Hawk said.
“Is there a problem?” Paxton asked.
“Yeah, and it won’t get solved with us sitting around this table,” Hawk said. “It’s time for some serious action.”
“What are you planning on doing?” Frazier asked.
Hawk grinned. “Hitting Al Hasib where it hurts the most and never letting it get up off the mat.”
THE END
Click this link to get NO WAY OUT, the next book in the Brady Hawk series.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to so many people who have helped with the creation of this project and the entire Brady Hawk series.
Krystal Wade was a big help in editing this book as always.
I would also like to thank my advance reader team for all their input in improving this book along with all the other readers who have enthusiastically embraced the story of Brady Hawk. Stay tuned ... there's more Brady Hawk coming soon.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R.J. PATTERSON is an award-winning writer living in southeastern Idaho. He first began his illustrious writing career as a sports journalist, recording his exploits on the soccer fields in England as a young boy. Then when his father told him that people would pay him to watch sports if he would write about what he saw, he went all in. He landed his first writing job at age 15 as a sports writer for a daily newspaper in Orangeburg, S.C. He later attended earned a degree in newspaper journalism from the University of Georgia, where he took a job covering high school sports for the award-winning Athens Banner-Herald and Daily News.
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