Any Means Necessary

by R. J. Patterson

  Hawk nodded. “I hear you guys are the best and do this all the time. Is that true?”

  “I don’t like to brag, but yeah—you won’t find any pilots better than us at this,” Gamble said. “As long as we don’t have any unforeseen complications, you’ll be raging like Rambo on those North Korean hackers in no time.”

  Hawk chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not exactly what I do.”

  “You’re not an assassin?” Bullock asked, arching his eyebrows upward.

  “I can be if I have to, mostly from long range as a sniper. But I can handle myself in close quarter combat in case you get any ideas.”

  An awkward silence fell on the room before Hawk broke into laughter and was then promptly joined by the two pilots.

  “You had us going there for a minute,” Gamble said with a grin.

  “I’ve found it’s always good to lighten the mood before such a serious mission,” Hawk said.

  “Speaking of which,” Gamble said, “you’ll need to start your oxygen treatment almost immediately after take off. Since you’re jumping from twenty-five thousand feet today, you definitely don’t want any complications once you land. I’m sure you’ll want to hit the ground running—or perhaps killing, whatever the situation requires.”

  “Sounds good,” Hawk said.

  Gamble led Hawk to room down the hall where all his equipment was laid out. He suited up and then made his way to the plane, a C-17. The plane’s loadmaster, Staff Sgt. Bo Meyer, greeted Hawk and directed him toward the seating area.

  “Sit down and make yourself as comfortable as these birds will allow for. No cute skirts to chase or free drinks on board this beast, but it’ll get you where you need to go.”

  “I stopped chasing skirts a long time ago,” Hawk said.

  “You married?”

  Hawk nodded.

  Meyer shrugged. “Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you have to stop looking.”

  Hawk ignored Meyer’s comment, choosing instead to settle onto the rock hard seat. Meyer shuffled away to take care of other pre-flight duties.

  Gamble climbed aboard and sought out Hawk.

  “You ready?” Gamble asked.

  Hawk nodded. “Just give me the word and open up the payload door. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Gamble flashed a thumbs up. “Did you meet Staff Sgt. Meyer yet?”

  “The man who thinks he’s Don Juan?”

  “Well, that answers my question. Now go get those bastards today and make ‘em pay. They’re probably the same ones spamming the hell out of my inbox.”

  The two men chuckled.

  “I’m trying to follow your suggestion and keep it light,” Gamble said. “I’ll let you know when we’re going to start depressurization.”

  “Roger that.”

  Hawk leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly while imagining all of the details he needed to take care of for the jump. While he rarely got nervous before missions, he felt a little jittery about this one. Plunging toward the earth from such a height was one cause of his anxiety, though he did enjoy the peacefulness of racing toward the ground for a couple of minutes before yanking his rip cord and praying his timing wasn’t off. Something just didn’t feel right, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  The flight to the drop zone was just over an hour. Hawk inserted his earpiece and turned it on to see if Alex was already online.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Hawk said.

  “It won’t be until I have my coffee.”

  Hawk heard the sound of Alex pecking away on her keyboard.

  “Is everything operational?” he asked.

  “All systems are go. We just need you to fall face first out of the back of an airplane.”

  Hawk chuckled. “For some reason, I’m not so excited about today’s jump.”

  “Don’t worry. If you go splat, I’m sure I’ll be able to find some other buff military guy to take care of me.”

  “That’s not funny,” Hawk said.

  “I’m serious,” Alex said. “I can’t go back to civilian life now.”

  “I’m not finding any of these comments amusing.”

  Alex broke into laughter. “I guess I’m more awake than I thought.”

  “Your wit apparently doesn’t need as much sleep as the rest of you.”

  “Oh, Hawk. Just stay focused. You’ll be fine.”

  “I know, but something feels off. I can’t really explain it.”

  “You can’t make a comment like that and not at least attempt to tell me what you’re talking about.”

  Hawk sighed. “I don’t know. There’s just this looming sense of danger I have.”

  “Well, you are—one—jumping out of an airplane from twenty-five thousand feet, and—two—you’re landing in North Korea, which is arguably one of our biggest threats militarily right now. So, there’s that.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Alex. It’s just a sense that something is about to go wrong.”

  “If there’s one person I’d want on the job if things are headed sideways, it’s you. You always figure out a way to maneuver through a mess. Always.”

  “I wish I had as much faith in myself as you have in me.”

  “It’s just that after you’ve seen it enough times, you start to lose all doubt. How can you even possibly be worried—about anything?”

  “Overconfidence can be a killer,” Hawk said. “The minute you start thinking you’ve got it all figured out is the minute you’re probably going to die.”

  Alex exhaled. “I know you’re not a negative person, but you sure can transform into Debbie Downer at will.”

  “I’m not a pessimist—just a realist. It’s how I survive.”

  “Well, shake out the bad feeling before the payload door opens and you begin your walk toward the back of the plane. A feeling won’t help you one way or another. You just need to focus on your job and be diligent to look around you at all times to make sure everything is as it should be.”

  “I’m shaking off the bad feelings right now,” Hawk said. “Maybe if you listen closely, you can hear them hitting the tarmac.”

  The door hummed as it started to rise. Hawk scanned the area and found Staff Sgt. Meyer standing against the wall and holding down a button with one hand while reading an old edition of Playboy in the other.

  “They don’t make them like they used to,” Meyer said before letting out a long whistle. “That is one mighty fine woman.”

  Hawk rolled his eyes.

  “What’s the matter with you, pretty boy?” Meyer asked as he stormed over toward Hawk. “Does my lust for women offend you? Are you disgusted by my behavior?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Well, now that you mention it—”

  “Shut the hell up, you smug self-righteous sonofabitch. This is my one vice, and I’ll be damned if someone like you is going to look down on me for this.”

  “Just do your job,” Hawk said.

  “You think I’m a pig, don’t you?” Meyer asked. “We all need to roll around in the mud every once in a while. A little dirt never hurt anybody.”

  Hawk resisted the urge to snap back at Meyer’s response. Ultimately, saying anything to him on the subject was meaningless.

  Once the door finally latched shut, Meyer marched toward the cockpit to alert the pilots that the back of the plane was prepared for takeoff.

  “Let’s go, ladies,” Meyer said. “It’s time to launch this bird into the sky.”

  A few moments later, the plane turned and then rumbled down the runway. Once Gamble reached the end, he spun the aircraft around and passed along a garbled message over the intercom.

  “What’s happening now?” Alex asked.

  “We’re about to take off,” Hawk said.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  Gamble accelerated down the runway, the plane collecting speed with each passing second.

  The airport seemed to whir by throug
h the windows across from Hawk. Lights flickered past until with a final leap, the plane lurched skyward and climbed steadily up over the city, which was still bathed in the glow of streetlamps.

  Once the plane stopped climbing, Hawk initiated his breathing treatment. He went over his mental checklist once again, reviewing all the tasks necessary for the mission to be considered a successful one. The most daunting task would be convincing someone on site to drive him to the coast after he destroyed the hackers’ operation. That was the black hole of Hawk’s assignment. Waiting on the coast was a fisherman contracted by the CIA to get Hawk to another boat in the Sea of Japan. But it was up to Hawk to figure out a way to get there.

  As they neared the jump zone, Gamble alerted Hawk that they were beginning depressurization. It didn’t matter much to him since he was already suited up, but it did affect the rest of the crew, which had to switch to oxygen masks in the thin air.

  “Approaching the drop zone,” Gamble said. “Prepare to jump.”

  Hawk stood and meandered toward the payload door. Meyer brushed up against Hawk while hustling toward control. Casually, Meyer flipped his middle finger at Hawk, who ignored the juvenile gesture and turned his back on Meyer.

  Hawk stared out into the darkness, morning’s first light just a few minutes away. Without ever having been in this part of the world, he didn’t know what to expect other than what he learned in his briefing. The Changbai Mountains were remote and treacherous, promising a rough landing. But he was ready, even though he had no choice.

  The door paused just short of opening fully, causing Hawk to turn around and see what was wrong. When he did, he realized why.

  Meyer trained his gun on Hawk and moved slowly toward him. Hawk raised his hands in the air in a posture of surrender and eased away from the payload door and toward a pallet of supplies. But before he could use it as a shield, Meyer wagged his finger.

  “That’s far enough,” Meyer said. “And it’s the end of the line for you.”

  “Captain Gamble, I think we have a problem,” Hawk said.

  Meyer laughed. “I disconnected your coms earlier.”

  Hawk didn’t wait for Meyer to shoot, diving to the ground and rolling behind the pallet. Thinking quickly, Hawk grabbed the plane’s tow bar off the wall and waited for the right moment to strike back. He crouched low and eased to his right, guessing that Meyer would approach from the left.

  Hawk took a deep breath and darted around the side, catching Meyer off guard. The first blow Hawk delivered with the tow bar was to the back of Meyer’s knees, knocking him to the ground. The second hit on his arms jarred the gun loose and it slid across the floor toward the back of the plane.

  Hawk made a move for the weapon but was surprised when Meyer swung his legs around. After tumbling to the ground, Hawk slid on his stomach a few feet before coming to a stop. Hawk realized that Meyer was headed for the gun and decided to make a more calculated move.

  Hawk followed after Meyer, letting him reach the weapon first in exchange for a more advantageous position. As soon as he reached down to pick it up, Hawk slid to the ground and planted both of his feet into Meyer’s thigh before giving him a swift push.

  Meyer rolled along the sidewall toward the open door, flailing for something to grab ahold of. He managed to get his hands on some cargo netting to stop his slide.

  Hawk kicked the gun out of the door and stood over Meyer.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Meyer said. “I couldn’t resist those people. The pay was good, but the job was even better. I was more than willing to take out an arrogant CIA assassin. You were going to jump out the back anyway.”

  Obsidian is everywhere.

  Hawk glanced at the cargo netting and noticed how it was tethered to the airplane. He looked back down at Meyer and wanted to tell him how he definitely wasn’t using his brain, but the mask over Hawk’s head would’ve prevented Meyer from hearing a single word in response.

  Instead, Hawk pulled the knife from the pocket in his suit and sliced the cargo netting. With one final strand remaining, Hawk looked at Meyer and felt sorry for him. The loadmaster was hanging on for his life and pleading for mercy. And as much as Hawk wanted to extend a hand to the man, he had tried to kill Hawk—and he wasn’t convinced Meyer wouldn’t try to sabotage the plane after Hawk jumped. Any trust between them was irreparably broken.

  Hawk cut the final cord and watched Meyer blow out the back.

  Glancing down at his belt, Hawk reattached the cord on his coms, restoring its functionality.

  “Hawk? Are you there?” Gambled asked.

  “Sorry, I was taking care of some business.”

  “Okay, well, we’re approaching the jump zone,” Gamble said. “How are things back there?”

  “I was just lightening your load,” Hawk said.

  “What are you talking about?” Gamble asked.

  “Staff Sgt. Meyer is gone.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He tried to kill me, but I got the better of him. Maybe you can just fill out in your report that it was an accident or suicide, whatever will give you the least amount of blowback.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Gamble asked. “We could’ve helped you.”

  “He disconnected my coms. He also had a gun and you had an airplane to fly. And now I’ve got a mission to carry out.”

  “Never liked that guy anyway,” Gamble said. “Approaching the drop zone in five seconds.”

  Gamble initiated a countdown, and when he reached zero, Hawk ran and leaped out of the back.

  CHAPTER 6

  HAWK ZIPPED TOWARD the ground, hitting a speed of nearly 200 miles per hours. Glancing at the altimeter on his wrist, he realized his fall was going to be a short one. As he neared the 3,500-foot mark, he deployed his chute and guided it toward an open area. Once his feet hit the earth, he ran for a few meters before coming to a stop.

  Releasing his harness, he took off his helmet and located a spot in a nearby patch of trees to bury his gear.

  “I’m here in one piece,” Hawk said over his coms.

  “That’s a relief,” Alex said. “Now that you’ve done the hard part, all you have to do is fight your way into that facility, destroy the computer system, and then find a way back to the coast.”

  “Is that sarcasm I detect in your voice, Alex? Because after what I just experienced, that probably was the hard part.”

  She chuckled. “What do you mean? I was getting a little interference there right before you jumped.”

  “Is anyone else listening in?” he asked.

  “No, just me and you.”

  “In that case, I can tell you the unfiltered story of how the loadmaster tried to kill me.”

  Pulling out his GPS to serve as his navigator, Hawk shared all the details of what happened while he walked along the prescribed path.

  “Meyer sounded like he got what he deserved,” Alex said.

  Hawk nodded and stepped over a fallen tree in his path. “It just has me wondering who else Obsidian has coopted to do its bidding,” Hawk said. “I’m not sure we’ve ever run up against a group as dangerous as this. We need to be extra careful about what we say and who we say it to.”

  “Roger that.”

  Hawk continued along until he summited a ridge. Crouching low behind a rock, he fished his binoculars out of his pack and scanned the rock face in a small valley below. The only signs of human intrusion into the park that was protected as a wildlife preserve was a dirt road that wound about three miles through the woods and connected with a perpendicular paved road. He waited for a few minutes until he saw a handful of cars as well as two vans rumbling along the path toward a cave. Hawk watched as the caravan stopped briefly before an opening at the base of the rock appeared. The vehicles all drove inside, and the door closed behind them.

  “Where did all those cars disappear to?” Alex asked.

  “They went inside an opening,” Hawk said. “Can you not see that on your feed?”


  “The satellite was getting some interference, but the picture’s clear now.”

  “Well, that’s where I’m headed now. There’s a small door on the side where an armed guard exited a few minutes ago and smoked a cigarette.”

  “Be careful,” Alex said.

  “Always.”

  Hawk hustled down the slope until he came within about fifty meters of the door. Taking cover behind some bushes, he pulled out his binoculars one final time to assess the area. The guard’s door had a security pad requiring a thumbprint, and perched overhead was a surveillance camera. Hawk pondered his options.

  Using the natural blind, he assembled his rifle and inserted a tranquilizer dart. He wanted to maintain the element of surprise, something that would be lost with a dead security guard. But if he happened to look like he was asleep in his chair, the staff inside might not be so alarmed.

  Ten minutes later, the guard came out again for another smoke break. He had finished about half his cigarette before Alex started speaking over the coms.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “You need to make your move.”

  “Common courtesy,” Hawk said. “Gotta let the man have his smoke.”

  With that, Hawk steadied his rifle and then pulled the trigger. The guard crumpled to the ground in a heap. Hawk gathered his gear before racing across the open area toward his victim. Grabbing the man’s keycard, Hawk waved it in front of the security panel before he foisted the man’s thumb onto the scanner. The door clicked and Hawk tugged it open.

  He dragged the guard’s body inside, which was a small room covered with video monitors. There was a door leading inside the facility with a window visible from the adjacent corridor.

  Hawk propped up the guard in his chair and studied the monitors for a few minutes.

  “What are you doing now?” Alex asked.

  “I’m inside the security office, and I’m trying to determine where I need to go first,” Hawk said.

  “I’d suggest finding the server room and then deploying the virus,” she said. “That way we can assure these cyber attacks stop. And make sure you get some pictures. I want to see what their operation looks like.”