Full Blast (A Brady Hawk novel Book 4)

by Jack Patterson

  Hawk became distracted when one of the guards kicked him in the ribs. Hawk fell to the ground, clutching his side. Another guard cocked his head and furrowed his brow as he peered at Hawk’s ear. The guard said something in Arabic to the leader, who gestured for the guard to proceed.

  Seconds later, the guard was digging around in Hawk’s ear.

  Hawk squirmed to get away from the man, but it was to no avail. Once the man finally rescued the earpiece from Hawk, the guard threw it on the ground and squashed it, grinding it into the floor.

  Hawk stared at the splintered pieces of his com link.

  I sure do hope Alex heard what I said.

  Hawk watched as the man, who was obviously the leader of the group, picked up his phone and dialed a number.

  “I warned you not to put together any rescue missions or else Fatima would pay dearly,” the man said.

  The man held the phone away from his ear. Positioned ten meters away, Hawk heard loud shouting coming from the other caller.

  “There will be consequences.”

  More shouting from whom Hawk now assumed was Abbadi.

  “Fatima is fine, but she won’t be if you don’t meet our demands. I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here.”

  Still more shouting.

  The guard pointed a gun at Fatima and pulled the trigger, jerking his weapon to the side just in time for the bullet to harmlessly fall to the ground.

  More agony from Abbadi.

  “Do as we said or else the girl is going to get it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Abbadi could be heard answering. He then let out a string of expletives, a tirade in at least three different languages.

  “No, we’re keeping the agent. We’re hoping to make a trade with the U.S. government. Don’t you worry about him. He’s of no concern to you anymore.”

  Hawk started to laugh, exaggerating just how amused he truly felt in an effort to get his captors’ attention.

  “What is so funny?” the lead guard asked.

  Hawk kept laughing. “You think the U.S. government is going to trade Al Hasib operatives for me? You’re crazier than you look. And trust me, that’s saying volumes about you.”

  “You better hope they open negotiations or else it will be a short stay for you. It’s your only chance at staying alive. Otherwise, you won’t live to see tonight’s sunset.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Tangiers, Morocco

  BLUNT STUDIED THE DOCUMENTS Roland sent before glancing out the hotel window. Blunt wondered why Hawk hadn’t called back despite multiple attempts to reach him. The urgency of his messages should’ve resulted in an immediate callback.

  Blunt concluded that Roland’s intel on the imminent attack was porous at best. It would require connecting plenty of dots, something Hawk was far better suited for. If Blunt had to guess, he would predict the attack would happen somewhere in Washington. As to the date and time, he felt woefully inept at pinning it down based on the data provided. He needed Hawk’s eyes on the intel so he could assess the threat more properly—and Blunt needed him yesterday.

  His phone buzzed, vibrating across the table. He picked it up, anticipating Hawk to finally call him back. Instead, it was another voice on the other end but a familiar one. “Hello,” Blunt said.

  “I thought you were supposed to be dead,” the man said.

  Blunt briefly contemplated hanging up but decided against it. His curiosity won out. “Thor, it’s been a while.”

  The assassin who’d served Blunt well in the past remained quiet.

  “Did you call me for any particular reason? Or did you just want to hear my voice?

  Thor grunted. “I have a reason for everything I do.”

  “Like your reason for refusing to carry out direct commands such as ignoring the order to kill Liam Jepsen?”

  “Someone had to rein in your indiscriminate killing.”

  Blunt sighed. “There was nothing indiscriminate about taking Jepsen out. You knew what he was up to, and you still refused to eliminate him.”

  “I didn’t call to talk about the past. I called to talk about the future.”

  “The future? I don’t see much of a future for me and you as it pertains to any kind of working relationship.”

  “I’m talking about your future, and if you want to have one or not.”

  Blunt picked up his cigar off the table and gnawed on it as he contemplated his next words. “If I didn’t know you better, Thor, I’d say that sounded like a threat.”

  Thor chuckled softly. “What do I have to do so that you understand what I said wasn’t just supposed to sound like a threat? It was a threat.”

  “I suppose you’re going to offer me some plan to save my life, a plan that I’ll most likely loathe.”

  “Something like that.”

  Blunt tapped his foot on the floor. The longer the conversation went on, the angrier he became. “I might as well hear it before I reject it.”

  “That wouldn’t be the wisest of moves.”

  “Just get on with it.”

  Thor exhaled loudly into the receiver. It was clear to Blunt that he was getting underneath Thor’s skin. “I want you to join me.”

  “Join you?”

  “Yes, join me . . . at Searchlight.”

  Blood rushed to Blunt’s face. If Thor had been in front of him, Blunt would’ve done everything in his power to kill him. “You’ve betrayed me, Thor. That’s unforgiveable.”

  “My betrayal is no different than those rebels who refused to bow to the crown during the Revolutionary War. When you realize there’s a side worth fighting for, you must turn and never look back.”

  “Searchlight is no honorable organization. Their agenda is one of destruction and domination.”

  “And yet, Firestorm never engaged in such tactics,” Thor said, his quip dripping with sarcasm.

  “Firestorm’s objectives were never to influence governments and seize power. It was … is … simply about denying power to those organizations that think they can operate in some sphere above the law for its own gain.”

  “So you’re doing exactly what you claim to be stopping? How noble,” Thor shot back.

  “There is no gain for me to be made. I’m doing this because I care about my country. I care about keeping tyrant leaders at bay.”

  “You are the type of leader the world needs to be afraid of, the kind with no accountability and a hidden agenda.”

  Blunt bit down hard on his cigar before pulling it out of his mouth and spitting out some of the stray tobacco bits. “I see they’ve brainwashed you good.”

  “No, I’m finally seeing the light about you and Firestorm for the first time. It sickens me what you’re doing.”

  “And who knows what you’re doing with Searchlight. But I can promise this—it’s not the altruistic venture you believe it to be.”

  “I’ll take this conversation as your official rejection of the offer to join Searchlight,” Thor said.

  “So, what’s next? Are you gonna come after me?”

  Thor broke into a laugh. “Oh, no, no, no. That would be too easy. We’d rather defrock you before we gut you.”

  “Just listen to yourself, will you? Do you think you’re suddenly talking like a man who has joined an organization with the world’s best interest at heart?”

  “You’re one to talk. But since we’re on the topic of hearts, just know that I’m going to remove the heart of your organization before I deal with you directly. I’m going to kill Brady Hawk.”

  Thor hung up and Blunt growled, flinging his phone onto the bed.

  Blunt had one burning question that had yet to be answered about his top operative: Where was Brady Hawk?

  CHAPTER 17

  Washington, D.C.

  FAZIL CLOSELY WATCHED THE VIDEO from the body cam feed as Malik Mudin affixed several explosive devices in strategic locations. The underbelly of the structure provided a plethora of places to attach bundles of C4 beyond the sight o
f even the keenest of security guards. The level of access a person had to the facility determined just how much and how deadly a detonation could be. Fazil smiled as he imagined the astronomical body count.

  This will make Americans forget about 9/11.

  If Fazil was honest with himself, he wished he’d have thought of such an ingenious plot. Hijacking airplanes and flying them into iconic structures was a plan so evil in its scope that it escaped the realm of conceivability for American minds. Even after spending a few short days behind enemy lines, Fazil realized just how pervasive—and detrimental—the American way of thinking was in regards to peace and natural goodwill.

  However, Fazil readily recognized the duplicity behind such so-called values. Americans desired peace for themselves yet cheered on state-sponsored attacks on small Middle Eastern nations. For far too long the United States had ordained themselves as the global police without any accountability. Fazil saw right through the propaganda, inspired by language designed to create a sense of fear yet assuaged by military might. For years, the American government leveraged unfounded fears about the East into a basis for pre-emptive strikes.

  Fazil loathed playing into the false narrative the U.S. government had created. If the U.S. had left his people alone, he would’ve never felt the need to strike back. But he’d attended far too many funerals of good-hearted men and women whose lives had been cut short by the indiscriminate bombing of innocent civilians. If the Americans wanted a war, Fazil was going to bring it right to their doorstep.

  Once Fazil watched Mudin secure the final explosive device, he stood up and clapped. “You will be remembered as a great man, Malik Mudin. I will make sure that the whole world knows who you are and what you’ve done in the name of Islam.”

  Fazil turned off the feed and collapsed onto his hotel bed. For a few minutes, he stared at the ceiling, reveling in the natural high he felt from being one step away from realizing his dream. Fazil sat up and grabbed the remote off the nightstand. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he came to ESPN. A man talked as baseball highlights rolled across the screen.

  Ugh. Baseball. This must be how they torture information out of prisoners.

  He flipped through more channels until he came to another sports station that was also airing baseball highlights.

  Fazil stood up and addressed the television.

  “You know what baseball needs? Explosions!” he said aloud before breaking into laughter.

  CHAPTER 18

  Prague, Czech Republic

  ALEX LISTENED AS HAWK’S FEED died a few moments after he was captured. Despite moving forward without audio, Alex used Hawk’s sporadic commentary and conversations as he moved through the compound to help envision the situation. She took a deep breath and tried to reorient herself. No longer did this mission require her tech skills; instead, it required her to enter operative mode if she wanted to see Hawk again, not to mention rescue Fatima.

  You can do this. Just relax.

  Alex remembered what Hawk had said before he left.

  “If the only way for me to escape is for you to start shooting, I’d rather you just high tail it out of here and leave me alone. No use in both of us twisting in the wind if this turns out to be a botched rescue mission.”

  She wasn’t about to leave him—or Fatima.

  Alex threw a rifle over her shoulder and climbed to the barn’s loft. She opened the door just enough to provide a window from which to shoot. Peering through her binoculars, she watched for a few minutes to detect the guards’ movements around the facility. Once they began to repeat, she fastened a silencer onto the end of her weapon.

  Setting up her gun, Alex slunk to the floor and took a prone position. Staring through the scope, she spotted her first target, waiting until he rounded the building before she pulled the trigger.

  A bullet whistled through the air, striking the guard in the head. He crumpled to the ground. Alex chambered another round and waited for the next guard to appear. Over the next two minutes, she systematically shot every guard patrolling the compound as each one emerged in her field of vision.

  She hustled down the ladder and sprinted across the yard. Using an empty fifty-five-gallon drum, Alex hoisted herself up and over the wall. She crept across the compound yard, glancing back and forth to make sure she was unnoticed by anyone else who might have ventured outside.

  Alex snagged a communications device off one of the dead guards along with a pair of handguns, an automatic rifle, and an access card. She slipped up to the door and peeked inside, delighted that no one was readily visible. Using the keycard, she swiped it against the access pad and the door unlocked, granting her access.

  She walked about thirty meters before she heard someone from the command center trying to get an update with the guards. Recognizing that her window to escape was short, she hastened down the hallway.

  When she rounded the corner, she identified two armed men standing guard outside a door. Based on how far she’d traveled and her own calculations with Hawk’s journey, she figured the room had to be the entrance to the holding facility.

  With deft precision, she shot the two guards, hitting them with two shots each. In her ear, she could hear the man at the command post panicking over the fact that none of his guards patrolling the perimeter of the building had checked in for over five minutes. She understood why he was upset, too. Five minutes was a lifetime in personal protection detail. So much could happen during that time frame. Alex smiled because so much had already happened.

  Alex stepped over the bodies of the two men and entered the room. Inside, she found Fatima and Hawk.

  Instead of expressing relief, Hawk narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing, Alex?” I told you to get out of here if something happened to me. I know you heard everything.”

  “And that’s exactly why I came,” she said, working to free Fatima. She pulled a knife out of her pocket and kicked it over to Hawk.

  “Who are you?” Fatima asked.

  “We’re the people who are going to take you to your father,” Alex said.

  “No, you’re not,” she said. “You’re the people who are going to get me killed.”

  Fatima nodded in the direction of the door, which had just slammed shut. A guard trained his machine gun on them.

  “Why are you untying her?” the man demanded as he continued to inspect Alex. “Who are you?”

  Alex raised her hands in the air, dropping her gun. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to get my friend here back to her father. Understand?”

  The guard nodded. “I understand, but it’s not going to happen. Make another move and I’ll kill you.”

  Alex turned around, brazenly confronting the man. “No, you won’t. I’m too valuable of an asset to you.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” the guard said. “We might be able to exchange several high value Al Hasib operatives for you. At first we only had one person, but now we have three. I love how you crazy Americans work.”

  Alex kept her hands in the air until she slowly crouched to the floor and placed her gun on the ground.

  “Kick it to me,” the man said.

  Alex followed his orders, offering no resistance whatsoever.

  When the guard knelt to pick up the weapon, he glanced down for only a second. That was all Hawk needed to fire three bullets into the man and make sure he never got up again.

  “Next time, please listen to me,” Hawk said as he turned toward Alex.

  “Save the lecture for another time,” she said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Who are you people again?” Fatima asked.

  “We’re just some people who care about you and what your father is doing,” Alex said. “Don’t worry. You might not ever be as safe again as you are right now.”

  Hawk snatched the com link off the dead guard and inserted it into his own ear.

  Alex finished freeing Fatima, and the trio prepared to venture into the hall
way.

  “You take the forward position,” Hawk said. “I’ll take the flank.”

  As soon as Alex was identifiable in the hallway, a bullet whizzed past her.

  “Don’t move,” a guard yelled.

  Recognizing how valuable she was to Al Hasib based on the previous guard’s statements, Alex was willing to risk that the guard who’d just shot at her wasn’t going to kill her.

  She threw her hands in the air and kept walking. She gritted her teeth and let Hawk know about the shooter.

  “Down the hall on the left, about forty meters away,” she said as she kept her jaw set. Her ventriloquist act could’ve landed her on a night-time television talk show.

  “Roger that,” Hawk said.

  Fatima followed Alex, both keeping their hands raised.

  Meanwhile, Hawk remained behind them and out of sight. After a moment, she heard two rapid gunshots and a body hit the floor.

  “Go, go, go,” Hawk said as he ran after them.

  Alex raced toward the exit with Fatima in tow. Once they hit the door, she heard Hawk laying down cover for them as they reached the courtyard. In a dead sprint toward the gate, she helped Fatima over and began scaling it herself. Alex led Fatima up the hill toward the barn and cover while they waited on Hawk.

  Alex couldn’t see inside the compound, but she scampered up into the loft to get a better view. The shooting suddenly stopped, and voices could be heard shouting. She pulled out her rifle and peered through the scope again.

  Hawk had been captured by one of the guards and was being led toward a man who acted as if he was in charge.

  “We don’t have time for this,” she muttered to herself.

  She slid another bullet into the chamber and set the sights on the leader.

  Wait for it. Wait for it.

  She squeezed the trigger and sent a shot ripping through the air that eventually found its mark, entering through a small hole in the man’s right temple and exiting in a gaping hole on the left. Alex watched as Hawk grabbed the man’s gun and took out several of the surrounding guards. In a matter of seconds, he’d managed to break free and hit two more guards while he ran toward the gate.