Mitzi and Maria came barreling down the hall.
Unnerved by the noise, the guard turned to see what the commotion was about and tried to pick up his feet to avoid the dogs. Seizing his opportunity, Hawk rushed toward the guard and hit him in the chest, driving him straight to the floor. Hawk delivered several swift blows to the man’s face before knocking him out cold. Snatching the gun out of the guard’s hand, Hawk shot him in the head.
“Did you just kill that man?” Marge asked.
“Meemaw, I’m just trying to protect you,” Hawk said as he hustled back across the room toward her. “Now, let’s get you out of here.”
He called Johnson and held the phone between his shoulder and ear while untying Meemaw.
“I’ve got her,” Hawk said. “She’s secure. Let the FBI know.”
He hung up and helped her to her feet.
“What’s going on, Brady? I had no idea you knew how to use a gun like that. I thought you were in the Peace Corps still.”
“It’s been a while, Meemaw. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. But not now. There are some bad people after you, and I need to get you to a safe place.”
She smiled and patted his hand, her loose skin turning wrinkly as she flashed him a big smile.
“You always were my favorite grandson,” she said.
CHAPTER 28
BILL LITTLETON SWALLOWED HARD and kept walking along the concourse at Oracle Arena. The chatter over the Bluetooth in his ear was nearly inaudible yet deafening. However, it wasn’t enough to make him stop.
“Bill!” said one of the FBI agents. “We’ve got Marge Colton. She’s safe.”
Bill didn’t stop, trudging forward in a zombie-like state.
“Did you hear me, Bill? You don’t have to give them the file. We’ve rescued Marge Colton. They don’t have any leverage now.”
Instead of stopping, Bill walked faster.
“What are you doing, Bill? Listen to me. Stop where you are and turn around.”
Bill made eye contact with the man who was sitting next to the empty seat where he was supposed to deliver the folder. The man nodded at Bill and held out his hand. Bill froze and took a deep breath before thrusting his hand forward and giving the folder to the man.
“Bill! Stop! Don’t do it!” the agent squawked in his ear.
The agent’s protest failed to dissuade Bill.
“You didn’t see the picture they sent me this evening of my house wired with C-4 explosives and guards standing watch outside of it with my family inside,” Bill said as he scurried away. “I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”
“Now thousands will die because of you,” the agent said.
He stumbled over his words. “I-I had no-no choice.”
FBI agents rushed past him as he collapsed onto the concourse floor.
CHAPTER 29
ALEX FOLLOWED THE MAN with her eyes as he circled her while tugging on a thick piece of rope. She’d slid to the floor and felt his heavy steps vibrate off the ground as they echoed throughout the vacant room. Each trip around her, he tightened the rope around one hand until the twine couldn’t be tightened any further, followed by the slow unraveling of it from around his hand.
“Tell me what you want,” Alex said. “Let’s get this charade over with.”
“Oh, you’re going to tell me what I want,” the man said, still disguising his voice. “And then when Brady Hawk comes for you, I’ll show him your dead body before I finish him off.”
His comments didn’t rattle Alex.
“I’ll make a bet with you right now that I leave this place alive and you don’t.”
The man laughed maniacally and then stooped down near Alex, putting his face right next to hers.
“You do realize I could ensure that I win this bet, don’t you?”
Alex shrugged. “But then you wouldn’t be able to collect on my debt, would you?”
The man stood up again, running his finger across the sharp blade he’d pulled out from his ankle holster.
“There are ways to make the dead pay.”
She sneered at him. “Well, you still have to kill me first.”
“I’m getting to that, but first we need to talk.”
“Did Mister Tough Guy flunk psychology? Or was it a failed practice? So, now you hone your craft by kidnapping clients? Which is it?”
“That quick-witted tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble,” the man said, pointing his knife at her. “Perhaps I should cut it out and just lecture you. After all, someone failed miserably at teaching you how to be respectful of others.”
“Respect can’t demanded; it must be earned.”
The man chuckled. “That’s a nice saying. Where did you get that from? A fortune cookie?”
“I read it in a book, something a knuckle dragger like you wouldn’t know how to open, much less know how to read.”
He crouched down in front of Alex. “Don’t you worry. I read plenty.” He stood up. “And I’m well versed in the art of torture.”
“Yeah. Go ahead. Check off the literate box on your long list of life accomplishments. It’d be the third most significant one, just beneath learning to walk and learning to wipe your own ass.”
Without warning, the man uncoiled a punch, hitting Alex square in the jaw and rattling her head off the pole.
“I’m going to make a lady out of you yet.”
Alex opened her mouth, stretching her jaw. “Can we get this over with? I’m really getting bored. Either kill me or don’t. But whatever you do, please stop talking.”
“I’m just getting started, Alex. We need to talk about the man you once drowned after you drugged him.”
“It was self-defense.”
“Really? Once you drugged him, you felt it was necessary to drown him?”
“It happened in Texas in my apartment. I was standing my ground.”
“What about the heist you pulled off with your mother?”
Alex furrowed her brow. “Wait. Wha—? How do you—?”
“Or the murderer you helped escape from a Turkish prison or the—?”
“Okay, enough. I get it. You know a lot about me and all my dark secrets. It does you absolutely no good to kill me.”
“You’re right, which is why I have some questions that you must answer—or else I’ll make sure the world remembers you for the criminal that you are.”
“I’m not anything like you,” Alex said as she sneered.
The man smiled and steepled his fingers, pressing them against his chin as he spoke. “Two sides of the same coin, Miss Duncan. Two sides of the same coin.”
“The only thing I share with you is oxygen. And the sooner I’m not doing that, the better off I’ll be—even if I’m dead.”
“We’ll get to that in a moment, but first I have a question about your involvement with The Chamber.”
As the man turned toward his toolbox, two bullets ripped through the office. The first one hit the man in the chest, the second hit his head. He collapsed to the floor in a bloody mess.
Alex looked across the room at the gunman.
“Parker?”
He rushed toward her, pausing only to check and make sure the man was dead.
“I heard Hawk was a little preoccupied.”
He knelt down and started to untie her.
“Seriously? How the hell did you find me?”
Parker smiled. “I told you that you were very important to The Chamber.”
“I guess so,” she said, rubbing her wrists and stretching to celebrate her newfound freedom.
“Let’s get out of here.”
She stopped. “I’m not going anywhere until I find out who this creep was.”
Alex bent over and tugged his mask off. She dropped it and gasped.
“You know him?” Parker asked.
She nodded. “But I just can’t believe it.”
CHAPTER 30
MAHMOD EYED THE MAN who walked purposefully toward the empty seat across the ai
sle from him. Based on the way the man stared at the fan sitting next to the empty seat, Mahmod could see the Colton Industries employee expected that fan to be the one collecting the folder.
Amateurs.
Mahmod heard the clatter of boots storming in his direction. He looked over his shoulder to see a SWAT team closing in on their position.
Hurry up. Do it now. We’re running out of time.
On cue, the concourse was set ablaze. One Al Hasib operative smashed a couple of Molotov cocktails on the ground. Another operative yanked the fire alarm. Complete chaos ensued.
Fans nearby started to scatter once they realized a fire had begun to rage behind them. They stampeded down the aisles, while others raced up the steps toward the closest exit, unaware a fire was burning in the concourse. The result was mass hysteria in the middle with neither side willing to let the other pass.
Talib Al Asadi selected the upper portion of the lower bowl of the arena because the back rows were hidden from security cameras due to the overhang from the upper deck. He figured that even if U.S. law enforcement officials eventually identified the operative who picked up the drop, it’d be far too late. Mahmod was that operative.
He scurried across the aisle, stuffed the folder in his shirt, and joined the fray below. He worked his way over the seats until he reached another section of the arena that was exiting in a more peaceful manner. Despite feeling confident that he’d avoided detection, he ducked into a bathroom and took off his jersey and turned his hat around. With everyone rushing for the exits, he had the restroom all to himself and took a moment to look at himself in the mirror.
Too easy.
Mahmod smiled at himself and then left the restroom, joining the flow of fans spilling through the turnstiles. He was about twenty feet away from the exit when he heard someone yelling for another man to stop.
Mahmod kept going, but after the fifth time, he glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with a police officer.
“You!” the officer said.
Mahmod pointed at himself and mouthed, “Me?”
“Yeah, you. Come here.”
Mahmod turned slowly and fought upstream against the fans who were leaving.
What could this be all about?
The officer put his hands on his hips and stared at Mahmod for a second before breaking into a wide smile.
“You’ve got toilet paper stuck to your shoe, my man,” the officer said. “I figured you wouldn’t want to be that guy.”
Mahmod looked down and started to laugh.
“Thank you, Officer. You had me scared there for a minute, like I did something wrong.”
“Well, have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Have you done something wrong?” the officer said.
Mahmod shook his head. “I have been on my best behavior.”
“Of course you have,” the officer said with another grin. “Go Warriors.”
“Go Warriors,” Mahmod responded before he spun and turned toward the exit.
He didn’t exhale until he reached the street.
Mahmod stopped and looked around at the pandemonium occurring outside the building where just moments ago a basketball game had been taking place.
About a hundred meters away, several police officers were wrestling a man to the ground and screaming at him. Mahmod recognized him right away as one of the operatives he’d been working with, the one who’d thrown the Molotov cocktails. It was painful to see one of his brothers dragged away and beaten, but in the end, it didn’t matter. They’d accomplished their mission.
Time to get to work.
CHAPTER 31
HAWK DROPPED OFF MEEMAW at an FBI bureau downtown. He hugged her tight before he stopped, fearing that he might hurt the feeble woman.
“These good people are going to take care of you, Meemaw,” Hawk said. “They’re going to get you someplace safe.”
“Do you trust them, Brady?”
Brady paused for a moment, surprised that he even had to ponder her question. To him it was a multi-layered one. In a general sense, he didn’t trust them. But in this specific instance, he figured no FBI agent wanted to have an elderly woman get injured on his watch. Hawk concluded that if Meemaw was taken to a safe house, she’d be out of harm’s way.
Hawk nodded. “I do,” he said before leaning in close and speaking in a hushed tone, “but I trust you more to keep them in line.”
He straightened up in time to watch her face light up with a hundred-watt smile. She waved dismissively at him with the back of her hand.
“Oh, stop it, Brady,” she said, trying to suppress a laugh. “I’m not quite as quick on my feet as I used to be. I outran the Gestapo once and lived to tell about it, but I’m not sure I could handle another attack from a bunch of terrorists.” She tapped her chest. “This ole ticker hates surprises.”
Hawk took her hand and gave it a little squeeze as he looked into her eyes. “You’re going to be all right. I promise.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it then.”
As Hawk headed for the exit, one of the FBI agents thanked him.
“Great work out there today, Mr. Hawk. Are you sure you don’t want to come work for the Bureau?”
Hawk emphatically shook his head. “This isn’t the pace of life I want.”
“Too fast for you?”
Hawk shook his head again. “No, too slow.”
He left the Bureau and tried Alex’s phone again, hoping to talk to the bastard who’d taken Alex.
“Hawk?” she asked as she answered her phone.
“Alex? Is that really you?”
“Alive and well.”
“What happened to you?”
“I got drugged by some guy, and I woke up in an abandoned office building. They were hoping to use me as bait to catch you.”
Hawk sighed. “It would’ve worked.”
“Even though we’re not supposed to know each other? You would’ve risked our cover.”
“We’ve risked our cover before—and I’m sure we’ll do it again.”
“What happened with you?”
“Long story, but I’m glad you’re back. I had to work on an op with Johnson. He didn’t get any of my Bollywood references.”
“That’s why you were so worried about me?” Alex asked, her tone suggesting dismay.
“I had a long list of reasons why I was concerned, and that wasn’t exactly at the top.”
“Yet you mentioned it first.”
“Most of the other reasons make me too emotional. I can’t lose you, Alex. I need you helping me on these missions. Apparently, both our lives depend on it.”
Alex chuckled. “Let’s just make sure you’re not double booked next time, okay?”
“So, how’d you manage to escape?”
“Kade Parker helped me.”
Hawk thought he’d misheard her. “Kade Parker? The Searchlight agent?”
“That’s the one.”
“How did he—?”
“It’s not important how he knew, but what’s important is that he saved me and put a couple bullets in the guy.”
“Did you know the man who abducted you?”
“Yeah—and you’re not going to believe it. Hunter Preston, one of Blunt’s aides.”
“You knew him?”
“I ran into him several times in D.C. when I swung by Blunt’s office. But Preston kept his face disguised the entire time.”
“And you’re sure it was him?”
“Yep,” Alex affirmed confidently. “I’m sure Blunt will be happy to hear that he had a mole in his office, too.”
“At least the mole is gone.”
“Dead and gone.”
“Well, we still have plenty of work to do, and things have changed quite a bit since you were taken.”
Alex sighed. “It’s gotten worse?”
“Unbelievably worse. Al Hasib kidnapped those two scientists so they could build the PUB-47. And no
w they have the schematics. It’s only a matter of time now before it gets operational. I’m guess three or four days max.”
“And Colton?”
“They still have him, too.”
“Just great.”
“Now that you’re back, ready to jump back into the fray? Personally, I’m hoping you want to swing into action. But we’ve definitely got our work cut out for us.”
CHAPTER 32
COLTON STUMBLED DOWN THE HALL in front of a pair of Al Hasib guards. They informed him that he needed to be in a more secure part of their lab. Colton looked around at the giant concrete structure that felt more like a tomb than a place where scientific research occurred.
When he stepped through the double doors at the end of the hall, Colton went slack-jawed. State-of-the-art equipment highlighted a pristine working environment. Machines whirred and whizzed. Men in white lab coats stared at clipboards and jotted down notes. And in the far corner of the room, Drs. James Davis and Brian Young huddled over a schematic spread out over a tabletop.
“James! Brian!” Colton called. “Don’t help them!”
Colton Industries’ two leading scientists looked up from their work and took a few steps in Colton’s direction before a pair of armed guards stepped in their path and gestured for them to get back to their work.
Colton spotted Talib, who strode over.
“Ah, Mr. Colton, I see you made it down to one of our labs,” Talib began. “So glad you could join us. I would love for you to ensure that everything runs smoothly since this weapon is your brainchild.”
Colton ignored Talib and shouted again toward the scientists.
“You think you’re going to get out of here alive?” Colton yelled. “If you make it, you’re sentencing others to death.”
The two scientists looked over their shoulders at Colton, both wearing forlorn looks.
Talib slid in front of Colton’s field of view, blocking him from seeing the two men.
“Mr. Colton, I must remind you that we are professionals. Or how do you say it in your country? Oh, yes, this isn’t our first rodeo.”
“Did you kidnap their families, too?” Colton sneered.
“We apply appropriate pressure points. Based on what I’ve heard some Americans say, killing their family might be welcomed. Everyone is different. We just knew that getting to your mother was the best way to get you to comply. It certainly worked better than trying to persuade you by holding one of your bastard children.”
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