Target Zero (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 5)

by Jack Patterson

  She was about to put the box back in place but decided to snoop around on it for a few more minutes. Refusing her curiosity was next to impossible, no matter how dangerous the situation, which was why she was hacking into the security feed in the first place. She smiled and shrugged before continuing to poke through the device. It wasn’t long before she discovered a large archive with little of interest. Then she pushed another button that opened another archive—at least that’s what she thought it was at first. Alex quickly realized it actually wasn’t another archive; it was a live feed, and she could see McGinn.

  “What are you up to, you little weasel?” she asked aloud.

  She pushed another button, revealing a different camera angle. Another button and then another camera.

  Alex leaned close to the screen and squinted. The image in the background looked like the weapon they were supposed to be retrieving. She scrolled through the images again, confirming her suspicions.

  He’s at the warehouse where we’re making the exchange. What does he need me for? He’s already tapped into the feed.

  She swallowed hard as another thought percolated.

  Or maybe something else is going on here.

  If he had wanted to kill Hawk and Alex, McGinn could’ve done it a long time ago. But she’d never felt easy around McGinn from the moment she met him. She needed to talk to Hawk about this, not to mention the other documents she’d found, and time was running out. An opportunity to confide in Hawk about these revelations had yet to present itself. And for the moment, she didn’t even know where Hawk was.

  CHAPTER 19

  EMILY REFUSED TO ACCEPT her fate as four guards surrounded her. Handcuffed to a pipe running over her head, Emily’s body was stretched far beyond comfort. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, but her arms extended upward as the blood drained down, causing a tingling sensation in her hands and fingers. The skin around her wrists had been rubbed raw as she struggled to find a moment to relax.

  “Allah has been good to us,” one of the men said.

  “No,” another man said with a grin spreading wide across his face. “The General has been good to us, allowing us to indulge in some of the spoils of battle.”

  “I’m not a spoil, you asshole,” Emily said. “I’m a woman.”

  The guard shrugged. “Woman … spoil of war … person to pleasure me … all the same in my book.”

  Emily tried to restrain her tongue, but she couldn’t. Not that it would matter. She knew where this was headed, and she figured she might as well make it as unpleasant as possible for the guards.

  “You have a book? You know how to read?” she said, sneering at the man.

  “You think your insults are going to bother me?” the guard asked. “I like my women feisty, especially American women.”

  Emily snickered. “I bet the only type of woman you’ve ever had are the kind you had to—”

  Whack!

  The guard backhanded Emily in the face. “I suggest you keep quiet.”

  “I thought you just said you liked your women feisty.”

  Holding up his index finger, the guard wagged it at Emily. “I said feisty, not dead.”

  “Oh, I’m very much alive. And I’m going to kill you in a few minutes.”

  All four of the guards broke into laughter.

  “I wasn’t joking,” she said.

  One of the other guards, who’d been looking Emily up and down while licking his lips, spoke up. “I’d like to go first—break her in.”

  “Trust me,” she said. “You don’t want to do that. It simply means you’ll be the first to die.”

  The guard walked up to her and threw his head back, breaking into a guffaw. He then ripped her blouse open.

  “Touch me again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

  The guard smiled. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

  Emily yanked down hard, freeing her wrists from the cuffs. Pulling up on the bar over her head, she brought her knees up even with the guard’s head and wrapped her legs around him. The other guards started pointing and laughing. Based on their reactions, Emily was quite certain that not a single guard in the room had any idea they were all about to die.

  After a quick twist of her legs, she heard the guard’s neck crack. He crumpled to the floor in a heap.

  “Who’s next?” she asked as she approached the guard who’d been in charge for most of her detention.

  The guard whipped his gun out and pressed the barrel of it into Emily’s chest. “I think you are.”

  In one swift move, Emily pushed the man’s hands aside, forcing him to point directly at one of the other guards. Emily eased her finger onto the man’s trigger finger.

  “On the count of three,” she said. “One . . . ”

  The gun ignited as she helped the guard pull the trigger, sending a bullet into the chest of one of the other guards. The guard who’d been holding the gun scrambled away from Emily.

  “Don’t think I’m finished with you yet,” Emily said.

  She proceeded to kick him in the head, knocking him out cold. In all the commotion, she’d lost sight of the fourth guard. Scanning the room to find him, she didn’t see him.

  “I hate playing games,” she said.

  “So do I,” he said from behind her.

  The guard shoved a gun into her back with one hand and wrapped his arm around her neck.

  “We can make this be quick and painless or slow and agonizing,” he said. “It’s up to you. But before any of this goes down, you’re going to give me what I want.”

  “Really, it’s up to you,” Emily said. “Just depends on how you want to die.”

  “Hey, lady, maybe you’ve forgotten who’s holding you down and jamming a gun into your back.”

  “I’m more concerned with where the bullets are going to go—and every last one of them is headed for your body.”

  The man started to laugh, though he tightened his grip and whispered in her ear. “Is it difficult to get through life as a stupid as you are?”

  The crack of a gunshot echoed through room as the guard collapsed to the floor. He quivered for a moment and attempted to say something unintelligible. She stepped on his arm and stooped down to pry the gun out of his hand.

  “From the looks of things, you didn’t really need my help,” Hawk said.

  Emily stood back up and glanced at him before looking back down at the dead guard.

  “Nice shot, but I could’ve handled him. So, how do we get out of this place?”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why these people targeted us?”

  She walked toward him. “Quite frankly, we don’t have that much time right now, but I happen to already know why.”

  “Please enlighten me,” Hawk said as he crossed his arms.

  “They were after you.”

  “So I was told. It seems like the whole world is after me these days.”

  She nodded. “It seems that way because that’s reality. Everyone is after you. Now, are we getting out of here or just standing around talking all day?”

  “This ought to be fun. I had to fight my way out and in to this building earlier. The General told me that you were in another building when in fact you were down the hall.”

  “Never believe a man who wears a generic nametag with the word General on it.”

  “Lesson learned. Now, follow me. We’re not out of danger yet.”

  She followed Hawk out of the room and hadn’t hustled more than ten meters down the hall before they heard a clatter of footsteps behind them.

  CHAPTER 20

  GARAAR LOCKED THE DOOR as his visitor left. He walked over to his desk and scrolled through all the exterior security cameras. Other than his guest walking to his car and driving away, there was nothing to see. It was quiet and calm as late afternoon sun began to sink on the horizon.

  If only things stay this way between now and Saturday night.

  Garaar opened his email and re
sponded to Cindy’s note.

  Will Monday be soon enough? I have to complete a multi-million dollar acquisition in Africa on Saturday.

  Garaar had learned plenty at Caltech, far more than how to make Sarin. He’d learned how to craft statements sure to garner the awe and adoration of those who he sought to impress, particularly over social media or email. For a moment, he stared at the screen, admiring his work. He didn’t anticipate such a quick response from Cindy. It wasn’t even 9:00 a.m. in Miami where the self-proclaimed party girl lived. Perhaps she was lying about where she lived or her party lifestyle—or both.

  Can’t wait. Will I get to take a ride on your yacht?

  Garaar glanced over at the room where the Sarin was locked away. He smiled and nodded while he typed.

  Absolutely!

  While Garaar was convinced Cindy was the hottest woman he’d ever had a chance of being with, he wasn’t too concerned about the optimistic comments he was making, which could turn from tenuous to outright lies. If anything went wrong, Garaar would be punished severely for it at the hands of Cindy, who he assumed wouldn’t be forgiving. Garaar chuckled at the thought of telling her the truth: Sorry, Cindy, I don’t have a yacht. I was going to purchase one before my pending sale of chemical weapons soured. Sorry.

  It wasn’t an explanation women likely heard every day, but at least it was the truth. Yet, he was convinced that wasn’t going to be the case. When Garaar closed his eyes, he saw himself on the deck of his new yacht, his arm around Cindy, the gentle Atlantic waves lapping at the hull, and twinkling stars dancing above the South Florida skies. It was going to be perfect.

  His phone ringing snapped him out of his fantasy.

  “Is everything on track for the exchange on Saturday?” a man asked. It was Karif Fazil.

  “Yes, it’s just as you requested.”

  “Good. I hate surprises, unless I’m the one doing the surprising.”

  Garaar uncorked a bottle of Scotch and poured a drink. “You’ll be happy to know that I spoke with the American. They won’t be posing any problems.”

  “They? I thought there was only one CIA operative in Berbera.”

  “Usually, that’s the case. However, there are two more agents supposed to assist him on this one.”

  “Is one of them named Hawk?”

  “How did you—?”

  “Never mind that. Just make sure you capture him. If you deliver him to me alive, I will increase your take home pay by twenty-five percent.”

  Garaar remained in stunned silence for a few seconds.

  “Garaar? Are you there?”

  He nodded vigorously, almost forgetting that he was on the phone.

  “Garaar?” Fazil asked again.

  “Oh, yes, sir. I’m still here. That’s a very generous offer. I will do what I can to make sure that happens.”

  Garaar hung up and clicked on a Pharrell Williams album from his desktop computer. Despite an unbridled love for American music, Garaar had to be careful since returning to Africa. Not all of his friends were as open minded about certain elements of Western culture. However, Williams was one of the world’s more popular artists abroad, which somehow made him more acceptable, even among the jihadists. Less than two weeks before he agreed to take the lead on making Sarin for Al-Shabaab, Garaar watched one of the executioners behead a man and then play Williams’ iconic Happy on his phone while dancing around the camp.

  Garaar stood up and paced around the room. Uncontrollable giddiness overtook him, suppressing the angst he’d felt earlier. Maybe it was the song, or the alcohol, or the anticipation of seeing Cindy. Whatever the reason, he decided not to analyze it and enjoy the moment.

  If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that when he woke up Tuesday morning, his life was going to be drastically different.

  CHAPTER 21

  HAWK RACED DOWN THE HALL with Emily following right behind. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that despite the thunder of footfalls, the guards in pursuit had yet to put eyes on them. He figured the moment they did, a hail of gunfire would serve as a signal.

  “In there,” Hawk said, pointing to a door off to the left.

  Hawk and Emily ducked inside. It was a small windowless room, no bigger than three meters square. It was dark but lit just enough to see each other’s faces thanks to the light beaming into the room through the crack beneath the door.

  The footsteps stopped for a moment.

  “I don’t think I can do what you’ve asked me to do,” Hawk said.

  “Are you sure? I think you should sleep on it some more, especially in light of what’s going on right now.”

  “No, I’ll fend for myself.”

  A few more seconds of silence passed with still no audible activity from the outside.

  “What is this place?” Emily asked.

  “It used to be a school.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Intel reports,” he said. “I studied the area extensively. When I managed to get outside, I looked around for some landmarks and figured out where I was.”

  “How’d you find me?” she whispered.

  Hawk put his index finger to his lips.

  Footsteps roared past and continued down the hall. Hawk put his face flush with the floor to try to see if it was safe to return to exit.

  “Clear?” Emily asked.

  Hawk looked up and shook his head. He placed his head back down and watched the slow, methodical march of a trailing soldier. Or perhaps it was the new leader who’d taken General’s place. The man moved down the hallway, checking each room by opening the doors, turning on the lights, and peeking inside.

  “He’s coming this way,” Hawk whispered. “We’re going to have to ambush him. I’ll sit here in the middle of the floor. You hide behind the door. Break his arm before he shoots me.”

  “With pleasure,” Emily said.

  The guard proceeded to stop in front of their door as Hawk predicted. Hawk watched as the doorknob turned slowly. As light flooded the room from the outside, the man flipped the switch, revealing Hawk, who was sitting in a fetal position. The man smiled.

  Emily shoved the door hard against the man, but it didn’t throw him off balance as Hawk assumed. The guard fired one shot before Emily knocked the gun out of his hand. Hawk scrambled for it across the floor, but the man kicked it away.

  Meanwhile, Emily tried to restrain the guard in order to give Hawk enough time to retrieve the gun. But the man was too strong and flung her to the ground. She landed on her back with a thud.

  The guard then dove for the gun just as Hawk was about to put his hands on it. He landed on top of Hawk, pinning him to the ground, and snatched the gun.

  Standing up, the man used his gun to direct Hawk to sit in the corner. Hawk followed suit and looked at Emily, who was lying prone with her head facing Hawk and turned away from the guard. She looked at Hawk and gave him a wink.

  With his gun trained on Hawk, the guard yelled down the hallway in Arabic for his colleagues to join him. Hawk used the opportunity to glance around the room for something to help him knock the gun away from the man, but there wasn’t anything to use.

  The guard turned his full attention back on Hawk and smiled.

  “We were all warned about the great Brady Hawk,” the guard said. “Looks like he wasn’t so great after all.”

  “Am I really that famous?” Hawk deadpanned.

  The guard just smiled and glanced anxiously back down the hall for the men. Their footsteps were still faint but growing louder by the second.

  Emily cut her eyes up at Hawk again. He gave a nod that was barely perceptible, and she swung into action.

  With one explosive kick, Emily kicked the guard in his balls. As he doubled over, Hawk unleashed a vicious roundhouse kick, rendering the man unconscious. Hawk grabbed the gun and scrambled to his feet. Emily stood up as well.

  “Where to now?” she asked.

  “Let’s head to the room next door. We can get
out through the window.”

  They dashed down the hall in the opposite direction of the approaching soldiers and rushed into the next room. Hawk ran over to the window and looked down.

  “It’s not that far of a jump,” he said. “Ladies first.”

  Emily joined him at the window and glanced out. Without hesitating, she leapt from the second-story and rolled once she hit the ground. Gunfire echoed down the hall. Hawk glanced over his shoulder before he followed Emily.

  Once he landed, they hustled across the area and hid behind the back of a car. Hawk peeked around the end to see if anyone was watching. Several men poked their heads out of the window from which Hawk and Emily had just jumped. After a few seconds, they disappeared back into the building.

  “It’s almost dark now, and I can’t have all those weapons sitting in the car like that, if they’re even still there,” Hawk said.

  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” she asked.

  “Searchlight is on their own as far as I’m concerned.”

  “They’re not fooling around when they say they’re going to send an assassin after you.”

  “And I’m not fooling around when I say that I can fend for myself. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Now, please let me get on with what I was sent here to do, and don’t contact me again here.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Hawk.”

  “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in life, and the one I’ve made over and over again is trusting someone else. I won’t do that again.”

  Hawk scanned the area again before heading down the street. Based on where he was in relation to the compound, Hawk estimated he was about a ten-minute walk. He wondered if he’d ever see Emily again—or if she might be on the other side of a gun barrel if he did.

  CHAPTER 22

  ALEX’S EYES BULGED as Hawk descended the basement stairs carrying a large cache of weapons and munitions. After getting over her initial shock, she rushed up to him, her mouth agape.