Brady Hawk 19 - Divide and Conquer

by R. J. Patterson

  He lumbered across the field before sliding behind a row of soldiers with rifles trained on Hawk and Alex.

  “Say something, Alex,” Hawk said.

  She was still unconscious.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Time for the infamous Brady Hawk to retire,” the officer said. “Comrades, prepare to fire.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “STOP!” SHOUTED A MAN charging hard into the execution area. Gasping for breath, he was waving a piece of paper in his hand. The Russian officer in charge took the document and scanned it quickly. With a sigh, he folded up the order and slid it into his jacket pocket.

  “Untie them,” the officer ordered in Russian.

  Hawk looked at Alex, who was regaining consciousness.

  “Wha—what happened?” she asked as she opened her eyes when her blindfold was removed.

  “Oh, nothing,” Hawk said. “Other than you and me getting thrown in front of a firing squad. That’s all. Just another day at the office.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then how come we’re still alive?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Somebody halted the guards just before they were about to shoot.”

  “Good thing,” she said. “That’s not how I imagined going out.”

  “Me either,” he said. “I didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t going to get to tell you goodbye.”

  She cocked her head to one side as guards scurried around, untying the bindings.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Hawk asked.

  “Were you crying?”

  “Of course I was,” he said. “The thought of seeing you like that and knowing you’d never wake up, I—”

  He paused, unsure of how to end the sentence. Nothing he could think of seemed to capture the sentiments he felt for Alex. He tried again.

  “It’s just that—”

  Alex smiled and patted him on the arm. “Sometimes there just aren’t words, are there?”

  Hawk shook his head. “None of them could do justice to how I feel about you.”

  The Russian officer strode up to them, wearing a scowl. “Apparently you are both worth something. You’re to be included in a prisoner trade that will occur tomorrow.”

  “A prisoner trade?” Alex asked.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Our governments agreed to terms moments before you were to be put to death. Perhaps miracles do fall out of the sky.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hawk asked.

  “The prisoner the Americans are exchanging for both of you is my cousin, Andrei Orlovsky. And if it weren’t for you, I’m quite certain I never would’ve seen him again. So, I have the two of you to thank for that.”

  Hawk tried to hide his shock. In the short time since they planned the mission to capture Evana Bahar, he understood that Orlovsky was off limits. Hawk had wanted to use Orlovsky in the operation to ensnare Bahar, but that request was denied.

  “Being traded for an illegal arms dealer is not something I want to be thanked for,” Hawk said.

  “Watch your tongue, Mr. Hawk. We still have plenty of time with you before the exchange. And how you spend those hours is up to me.”

  “If you want me to grovel at your feet, you can forget it.”

  The officer pulled his jacket taut and nodded at the guards. “Put him in the hole. And leave the woman with me.”

  Hawk resisted the guards’ prodding as they shoved him forward. “I will hunt you down and kill you if you touch her.”

  “Enough,” Alex said as another pair of soldiers ushered her away.

  Hawk didn’t make it easy for the men to take him back to “the hole,” fighting them every step of the way. When they arrived, he understood the reason why it was called a hole. One of the guards lifted a round cover, revealing a dark space. Hawk peered inside but couldn’t tell where the bottom was. Before he could say a word, one of the men used his foot to shove Hawk in the butt, sending him tumbling head over heels into the hole.

  Hawk hit the ground with his left shoulder, resulting in an immediate ache.

  The guards laughed as they slammed the hatch shut and walked away.

  Hawk wasn’t amused by any of it. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, and he knew it. He’d endangered Alex with his mouth, though he knew she could deal with anyone on her own. But he couldn’t excuse himself for such behavior.

  He spent the next two hours beating himself up for his interaction with the Russian. But the ruing ended abruptly when two guards called down into the darkness for him.

  “Come with us,” one of the men said.

  Hawk looked up, unsure of how to proceed. Before he could ask, one of the men shone a light into the area, revealing a ladder attached to the side of the wall and leading up to the cover.

  Hawk didn’t need explicit instructions, scaling to the surface. The guards led him down a series of corridors where he was reunited with Alex.

  “Did he touch you?” Hawk asked.

  She shook her head. “He was just rattling your cage. And you fell for it. You’re better than that.”

  Hawk sighed and nodded. Alex was right, and he needed to keep his composure, despite the intense pressure he felt from every aspect of his life.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve held my temper.”

  “You’re a good man, Brady Hawk. Just don’t let that fiery attitude be the death of you, okay? You’ve got enough people taking aim at you that you don’t need to make yourself an even bigger target. Besides, I can handle myself, and I think you know that by now.”

  Hawk nodded, refusing to shy away from the criticism. The pressure had taken its toll, but he knew that relief wasn’t coming any time soon. He needed to focus and prepare for what was coming next.

  As they rounded the corner, Hawk looked up to see J.D. Blunt flanked by Titus Black and Andrei Orlovsky. Blunt exchanged a few words with Russian officials before Hawk and Alex were shoved in the back toward the direction of The Phoenix Foundation director.

  “You better hope I never catch you again,” the Russian officer said.

  Hawk resisted the urge to snipe back at the man, instead choosing to make a mental note of the man’s face and commit it to memory. If they ever met again, Hawk wouldn’t take the man as a prisoner. The score would be settled in a different manner.

  Hawk looked at Blunt, bags heavy beneath his eyes. His dour expression wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the edges of his lips seemed turned downward more than usual. Blunt didn’t speak until they had all exited the compound and were inside the car.

  “What the hell happened here?” Blunt said.

  “It’s a story with a lot of holes,” Hawk said.

  “You better start filling them in,” Blunt said as he adjusted the rearview mirror in order to see Hawk and Alex.

  Titus Black ignited the engine and eased onto the accelerator as they bumped along the road leading away from the facility.

  “From the best I can tell, someone sabotaged the plane,” Hawk said before recounting what he knew about the situation.

  “What about you, Alex?” Blunt asked. “What do you recall?”

  “Not much,” she said, “other than waking up with Hawk holding onto me and telling me not to look down. I wish I knew more, but I just don’t. We think someone drugged me.”

  “Captain Covington?” he asked.

  “It was either him or the co-pilot,” she said. “But I never interacted with him other than to say hello when I arrived at the hangar.”

  “Well, none of that matters now,” Blunt said. “We just need to get home as soon as possible and figure out a way to deal with the impending mess Sinclair is about to make when he coopts President Young.”

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, the wheels were up and they were soaring over Russia, leaving the country behind. Hawk had plenty of unfinished business in the massive country, business that didn’t even pertain to the officer who’d treated them so poorly. But that would all have to wait. The more
pressing matter centered around President Young’s impending meeting with Falcon Sinclair.

  Blunt gave Alex a laptop, pre-loaded with all her files that were backed up from the CIA’s server farm. As the team discussed a strategy for preventing Sinclair from coopting Young, Hawk became annoyed with Blunt’s insistence that the president and the tech billionaire meet.

  “You can sway Young to cancel the meeting,” Hawk said.

  “It’s too late,” Blunt said. “That ship has sailed, both figuratively and literally. Young wouldn’t tell me much about his meeting, other than the details were secret. But one of my White House insiders told me that Young was flying to Kuala Lumpur and sailing out of Port Klang on one of Sinclair’s high-speed yachts.”

  “And where were they going?” Alex asked.

  “That’s the part my informant didn’t know. Apparently, not even Young knew.”

  “So, Young is floating around at sea with some Australian billionaire he just met?” Hawk asked. “That doesn’t seem like the wisest thing.”

  “His Secret Service detail is with him,” Blunt said. “But I’d feel much better if we knew what exactly Sinclair was up to because it can’t be good.”

  Hawk sighed and shook his head. “I would’ve felt much better if you had stopped Young from ever meeting Sinclair in the first place.”

  “Young insisted on it, saying that the location was secret because Sinclair had some world-changing technology that he wanted to demo,” Blunt said.

  “We need to figure out where they’re meeting so we can find out what this big secret is,” Hawk said.

  Blunt shook his head. “No, we need to find Evana Bahar so we don’t lose funding.”

  Hawk pounded his fist onto the arm of his chair. “If Obsidian turns Young into a puppet, what difference does it make if we have funding or not. We’ll never be able to do what we need to do to keep America safe from terrorists. Instead, we might just be letting a coup take place while we chase after some terrorist so the president can pound his chest about how safe we are as a country. Meanwhile, he’ll be inviting the worst kind of terror to the White House, the kind of terror you have no idea even exists and is poisoning everything you ever believed in. I, for one, don’t want that on my conscience.”

  Alex raised her hand as she stared at her computer screen. “Uh, guys, I just got an email from Helenos-9.”

  “The hacker in Berlin?” Hawk asked. “What does he want?”

  “He said that there’s something he needs to tell us—in person,” Alex said.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Blunt said. “We need to go to Morocco and plan how we’re going to capture Evana Bahar.”

  Hawk scowled. “What’s wrong with you, sir? About a week ago, you were convinced our highest priority was stopping Obsidian and not Bahar and Al Fatihin. This about-face from you is puzzling.”

  “Staying in Young’s good graces is important for the future of this organization, one that I feel strongly has a vital role in the country’s security both now and in the future. I don’t want to jeopardize everything we’ve built because we’re suspicious of Sinclair’s motives.”

  “Suspicious of his motives?” Alex asked as she furrowed her brow. “We know he’s scheming to seize power in every sector possible. And if we’re serious about securing our country, we need to take this threat far more seriously than any bomb Evana Bahar’s minions can sneak into the country. We’re talking about the fabric of our democracy at stake here with what Sinclair wants to do.”

  “Okay, fine,” Blunt said. “I guess maybe we can stop for fuel in Berlin,” Blunt said. “But we can’t stay long. We can keep working on that while we pursue Bahar.”

  Hawk cast a sideways glance at Alex. He could tell she was wary of Blunt’s emphatic push to get the terrorist leader.

  Something’s not right.

  Then something on Alex’s screen grabbed her attention.

  “Whoa,” she said. “Now this is interesting.”

  “What is it?” Hawk asked, leaning over to look at her screen.

  “I just saw a post on one of the chatrooms on the dark web that I follow. Helenos-9 is dead.”

  “Then who sent you that message?” Blunt asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But we’re going to find out.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Berlin, Germany

  ALEX PUSHED THE DOORBELL and waited for someone to answer at Becketts Kopf, the eclectic cocktail bar selected for the meeting with Helenos-9. Eventually a woman draped in an apron welcomed Alex inside. When she responded that she would rendezvous with the infamous hacker, she expected going to a dive. But this place felt more like a millionaire’s study than a spot to throw back a few drinks and unwind after a long day at work. Plush leather chairs and wood trimming throughout the building belied the quirky nature of using a buzzer to gain access to the establishment.

  “Are you meeting someone?” the woman asked.

  Alex nodded as she scanned the tables. “I don’t see him yet, but I can wait at the bar.”

  “Why don’t I seat you?” the woman said with a warm smile. “I’m sure your friend will be along soon enough—and I wouldn’t want to have you get stuck talking to Peter, unless you’re into football, in which case you’ll find him engaging and informative.

  Alex forced a grin. “I’ll take that table.”

  Once she took a seat, the woman handed Alex a menu, disguised as a Samuel Beckett novel. After finding the drink list buried in the back, she ordered a Sazerac and perused through the German translation of Murphy.

  “Any sign of him yet?” Hawk asked.

  She covered her mouth so no one could see her talking to herself. “Negative.”

  “If you can, make one more sweep of the place so we can capture the faces of everyone in there and run them through some facial recognition software,” Hawk said.

  “Roger that,” Alex said, keeping her hand over her mouth nonchalantly.

  Alex complied with Hawk’s request and rotated in her chair, allowing the camera hidden in her broach to register all the faces.

  “Got it,” Hawk said.

  Alex returned to perusing the pages in front of her, while casting furtive glances in all directions whenever she noticed significant movement out of the corner of her eyes. However, no one even closely resembled Helenos-9. After she received her drink, she took a sip and noted that not a single male was sitting alone in Becketts Kopf.

  “Where is he?” she muttered to herself.

  While she was staring at the words on the page, the voice of a woman interrupted Alex’s train of thought.

  “Excuse me, but is this seat taken?” a young woman asked.

  Alex hesitated. “Actually, I was waiting on a friend.”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said. “The person you were waiting on didn’t happen to be this man, did it?”

  She flashed her phone screen at Alex, revealing an image of Helenos-9. The image startled her at first, but then she scowled, unsure if she needed to say the code word for Hawk so he would storm in.

  “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” Alex asked.

  The young, bespectacled woman eased into the seat on the opposite side of the table. She wore a dark pant suit and with a royal-blue blouse, while her hair was pulled up into a tight bun. Holding her phone in one hand, she clung to the strap of a computer bag with the other.

  “Sorry to approach you like this, but it’s how I’m now forced to conduct business,” she said.

  Alex furrowed her brow. “What business do I have with you?”

  “I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Helenos-9.”

  Alex stared at the woman’s hand before glancing back at her. “I’m afraid you’re not who I’m looking for.”

  The woman chuckled. “Oh, but you are. I’m sure you’re asking yourself right now, ‘I thought Helenos-9 was a man.’ And you’d more or less be right. The public persona of Helenos-9 was my brother
, Dietrich. But he’s sadly no longer with us, likely because of how he handled the information you gave him.”

  “Are you suggesting I had something to do with his death?” Alex asked.

  “Murder,” the woman corrected. “And, no, I’m not. You’re just not aware of all the facts, starting with the fact that my brother was never a hacker.”

  “Come again.”

  “I said, my brother was never a hacker. I was always the one behind the scenes doing all the dirty work. He was just the public front for our little enterprise.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Alex said. “You are the brains of the operation and used your brother as the front man for your hacking business.”

  “That’s a perfect summation, Mrs. Hawk,” she said. “Perhaps if this espionage job doesn’t work out for you, you’ll be able to find something in the world of public relations.”

  Alex chuckled. “If this espionage thing doesn’t work out, it means I’m dead.”

  “Just like my brother,” the woman said. “My name is Mia, by the way.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Alex asked.

  “Maybe because I have corresponded with you multiple times in the past, most recently calling you Cowgirl in one of my emails.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. You could’ve hacked into Helenos-9’s files.”

  “I don’t consider what I do hacking when I have the password,” she said. “At that point, it’s just harvesting information.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  Mia sighed. “Do I have to spell it out for you, from one hacker to another?”

  “You’re—” Alex covered her mouth as the reality dawned on her.

  “Yeah, I’m Helenos-9,” Mia said. “My brother was never a great hacker, but he was far better at dealing with people than I was. But his greed spelled his ultimate demise.”

  “So, he wasn’t a hacker?”

  “He thought he was, but I ran circles around him. I don’t even think he tried to crack your files. But I know he tried to cover his tracks and keep me from seeing what he did with you. And since he was the public face of Helenos-9, when he agreed to work with Falcon Sinclair, that was the end of everything, including his life.”