Brady Hawk Box Set

by R. J. Patterson

  “That’s right. America’s pastime.”

  “I thought that was football,” the man said with a chuckle. “Baseball is such a boring sport.”

  “You better be glad that Nolan Ryan isn’t here to hear you say that. He might just pummel you like he did Robin Ventura when that fool charged the mound. Ryan beat the ever-lovin’ daylights out of him as a forty-something year old.”

  The man scoffed. “You Americans and your violence. Such a needless spectacle.”

  Blunt held up his index finger. “Not always. You know that better than anyone.”

  Lord Williams was a British businessman who held unprecedented sway with the prime minister even though he remained relatively unknown to the public. While persnickety at times, Blunt tolerated it from his closest confidante in The Chamber.

  “So, why are we here, Lord Williams? Why did you think we needed to come all the way out into the Texas hills to talk?”

  Williams took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m concerned, Senator.”

  “About what? My list of things I’m concerned about stretches across the Atlantic and back several times.”

  “I didn’t drag you out here to talk about my prostate, that’s for certain.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I’m afraid there’s a mole within The Chamber.”

  “A mole?” Blunt paused. “I can’t say I’d be completely surprised by this.”

  Williams cocked his head. “No? You have your suspicions as well?”

  “If what happened in Vienna isn’t proof, I don’t know what is.”

  “I agree. However, that was your assignment. You’re aware of The Chamber’s policy for failed missions, aren’t you?”

  Blunt nodded and looked out the window at the security guard patrolling the grounds. “Which is why I’d never sabotage my own mission in any way.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “Are you insinuating what I think you’re—?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Blunt slammed his fist on the counter. “How dare you drag me out here to accuse me of such a thing, especially when you know how much I’ve sacrificed for this organization.”

  Williams gazed out the window. “Your son was hardly a sacrifice. He was a ticking time bomb.”

  Blunt fiddled with the watch on his wrist. He remained silent, seething as he glared at Williams.

  “Senator, I know you’re aware of The Chamber’s Monitors. Nothing gets past them. They are trained to ensure that integrity remains within our organization. And you’ve sent up red flags with some of your behavior lately, especially the Vienna mission.”

  “What do you want me to do? Resign?”

  Williams shrugged. “It’d be a first for The Chamber, but I suppose it’s an option the board would be willing to consider.”

  “Well, you can forget it. I’m as loyal as the day is long. And as we like to say in the South, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  “The truth is you haven’t been the most helpful to the organization. Besides, you’re only one election away from selling used cars in Dallas again or, if you’re lucky, playing golf for the rest of your days at that country club you’re always blathering about.”

  “I’ve got four more years until I’m up for re-election, and my approval ratings have never been higher.”

  Williams looked out the window again. “Until the next scandal comes to light. If you lose your standing with the defense committee and—along with it—your funding, you’ve outgrown your usefulness.”

  “We’re all prone to losing our influence should the perfect storm occur.”

  “But not everyone is so reckless in how they handle their affairs.”

  “Perhaps, but I’m also the only one who could handle that situation in Botswana two years ago. Without me, who knows where The Chamber would be today.”

  Williams glanced outside again and then back to Blunt. “I suspect that was only to win our trust.”

  “I don’t think this conversation is productive any more. If you think that I’m a mole, then you need to bring me before the council and let them decide.”

  “They already have.”

  Blunt furrowed his brow and stared at Williams. Before Blunt could say another word, out of the corner of his eyes he saw one of his guards stagger to the ground. A faint smile broke across Williams’s face.

  Without hesitating, Blunt dove to the ground and hid behind his counter in the kitchen as bullets tore through his lodge. Once the bullets stopped, the sound of a stool scraping across the floor followed by purposeful footsteps terrified Blunt even more.

  Shaking his head, Williams looked down at Blunt. “Look at you, cowering like a gutless coward. We gave you one task, J.D.—one task. And you couldn’t even complete it.” Williams pulled out a gun and pointed it at Blunt while pacing around in a small circle. “So, here we are.”

  Blunt held up his hands to shield his face. “Please, Lord Williams. You have to believe me. Someone is setting me up.”

  Williams laughed. “I expected you to try and persuade me otherwise, but I certainly didn’t expect you to beg.”

  Desperate, Blunt grabbed Williams’s free arm, tugging on his wrist. “Please, you’ve got to believe me.”

  Williams felt a prick on his arm and shook free, jamming his gun into the back of Blunt’s head. “Time for you to—”

  Williams collapsed before he started convulsing on the kitchen floor. Within seconds, he was dead.

  Blunt collected the English statesman’s gun and shoved it into his belt. He then grabbed the body and dragged it to the front door. Propping the body up, Blunt swung the door open. He made Williams appear to wave outside at the shooter.

  The shooter let his guard down and stepped out from behind a row of bushes.

  Blunt dropped Williams and opened fire on the man who’d strafed his cabin. The man tumbled to the ground.

  Blunt looked down at Williams’s body. For sure, Blunt would have some explaining to do, but he was confident he’d emerge the media’s inquiries unscathed.

  After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to ask the local medical examiner for a favor.

  CHAPTER 28

  DESPITE THE CIRCUMSTANCES, Hawk tried to enjoy the beauty of Africa. It wasn’t every day that he had the opportunity to venture into such majestic country and soak in one of the perks of his job. He’d begun to settle into his legend as Oliver Martin, Kiwi taxidermist and exporter of unique items, so much so that he started to wonder if it might be a job he’d prefer over covert operative.

  During their hunt, they encountered three of Africa’s big five—a black rhinoceros, a Cape buffalo, and a leopard—but never got off a shot. Jacobs told them that seeing a leopard in Sierra Leone was increasingly rare and they ought to be grateful for the opportunity to see it, even if they didn’t have the chance to take a shot at the animal. Hawk knew he could’ve at the very least felled the Cape buffalo but was content to just see the animal in its natural habitat.

  After they returned to the outfitter’s facility, Hawk showered and changed. He wanted to get to The Errant Apostrophe’s well in advance of Demby in order to properly scout out the location in case things went awry.

  Hawk took a seat at the bar and ordered a Star beer before a man sat down next to him.

  The man glanced at Hawk’s beer before chuckling. “It tastes like piss, but what can you do? We’re in Africa.”

  “Oliver Martin,” Hawk said, offering his hand.

  The man shook it. “Jay Collier.”

  Hawk’s eyes shot up. “The Jay Collier? The former quarterback for the Florida Gators?”

  Collier grinned and held his hands out. “The one and only, in the flesh.”

  “I’m from New Zealand, but I’m a closet fan of American college football. I seem to remember a game where you almost single-handedly beat Auburn.”

  “That was a long time ago—but it doesn’t take much to beat Auburn . . . as long as they aren’t cheating.” />
  Both men laughed heartily at Collier’s comment.

  “So, what brings you here to Sierra Leone?” Collier asked, gesturing toward Hawk’s drink. “I know it’s not the beer.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Definitely not the beer. I’m just a Kiwi taxidermist who came here for the hunting. What about you?”

  “I’ve got a similar story, but I never left.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Going on five years next month.”

  Hawk sipped his beer. “And you’re still alive.”

  “I know. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  “So, what do you do here now?”

  “I work with a hunting outfitter and serve as a guide. Beats real work.”

  Hawk laughed. “So true.”

  “So, how has your hunting been?”

  “I killed a duiker earlier this week.”

  “Bravo. Those little buggers aren’t easy to find these days, not to mention the government frowning on eating them due to the Ebola outbreak.”

  Hawk nodded. “I swear, if I hear the word Ebola one more time—”

  Collier stood up. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

  Unconcerned, Hawk stood up and followed his new acquaintance.

  “I know who you are and why you’re here,” Collier said in a low growl.

  “What?” Hawk said, playing coy. “What are you talking about?”

  Collier chided him about his hunting exploits before he explained to Hawk that he’d heard everything outside his bedroom window the night before and that he knew he was CIA.

  “You sure as hell ain’t a taxidermist—and I’m going to need some cold hard cash to not run to Demby with this. I know I’ll be rewarded handsomely by him.”

  Hawk continued his act as they trudged away from the bar, frustrating his captor. Tired of Hawk’s charade, Collier put a knife to Hawk’s throat.

  When they walked past an outhouse, Hawk seized his opportunity to put an end to Collier’s shenanigans. Needing only a few moves, Hawk immobilized Collier, knocking him out cold. Hawk glanced around to see if anybody had noticed them. He appeared to have escaped without being seen. Due to Collier’s aggressive and threatening nature, Hawk had only one option: eliminate the man who could blow his cover.

  Hawk positioned Collier on the toilet in the outhouse and slit his wrist. It’d look like a suicide. Hawk grabbed Collier’s wallet.

  Or a robbery.

  Either way, he wouldn’t be a suspect and his legend would remain intact.

  Hawk knew he’d have to be more vigilant as the bloodletting was about to begin.

  Slipping back into the bar, Hawk sat down on a stool before his phone rang. It was Demby, and he wanted to meet.

  CHAPTER 29

  ALEX CALLED HAWK to let him know she was working all her back channels to set up a way to smuggle Demby’s diamonds to the U.S. She’d reached out to several of her West African operatives from her CIA days to find out who would be reliable contacts to help him escape the country. She needed a fast and safe route out of Sierra Leone, one that wasn’t fraught with palms that required exorbitant greasing. With no possibility of a military extraction, Alex had to make sure Hawk could exit the country swiftly and safely. And on a continent where those two words described hardly anything but gazelles and armored Range Rovers, it was a daunting task.

  “How did things go today?” she asked.

  “I’m on my way to meet Demby—but it hasn’t been easy.”

  “Trouble in paradise?”

  “I wish it was only trouble. Some guy accosted me in the bar and said he knew who I was. He tried to drag me out into the woods and threaten me before I had to kill him.”

  “Better him than you.”

  “That’s how I see it.”

  “Well, I wanted to let you know I’ve got your escape route set up. You can’t get out through Freetown. You’re going to have to drive to Kankan, Guinea. I’ll forward you all the details, but I’ve got a missionary pilot there who’ll fly you to Accra, where you can catch a commercial flight back to the states.”

  “And what about the diamonds?”

  “I’ve got an exporter in Accra who works with the CIA who’s willing to take on the diamonds for you.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been busy, Alex.”

  “You could say that.”

  “How’s Blunt been?”

  “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “When we’re in the middle of an operation, it is. I know he went to his ranch in Texas, but I haven’t heard from him since he left.”

  “See if you can reach him. He needs to know what’s going on here. If I pull this off, this will seriously cripple Al Hasib’s operation for a while.”

  “Let me try again. Hang on.”

  Alex put Hawk on hold while she dialed Blunt’s number. Still nothing. She then called his chief of security. Straight to voicemail.

  “Hawk?” she said.

  “I’m here.”

  “Still not gettin’ anything from him. I’m starting to get a little bit worried, since he’s usually checked in or called me back by now after I left him a couple of messages. I even asked General Johnson, and he hasn’t heard from him either.”

  Hawk sighed. “Well, relay to him what’s going on for me, will you? I know this will be a big feather in his cap.”

  “Especially if you can find those weapons.”

  “Just give me some time. I’m working on it.”

  CHAPTER 30

  HAWK PULLED INTO THE gravel parking lot in front of Sefadu Holdings, kicking up a cloud of dust that hung thick in the evening air. He climbed out of his vehicle and strode toward the small office building. The window air conditioning unit hummed, forming a strange melody with the nocturnal animals calling out into the night.

  Hawk tapped on the window and waited. In a matter of seconds, Ibrahim greeted him and ushered him inside.

  Demby stood in the center of the room with a grin on his face. “Mr. Martin, it’s so good to see you. We have much to talk about.”

  Hawk smiled back. “So I understand.”

  “Please,” Demby said as he gestured to a chair in the corner of the room across from a desk, “have a seat.”

  Hawk sat down and took a deep breath. While he enjoyed engaging with the enemy in close quarters, this environment felt claustrophobic. More coffin than level playing field. If anything went wrong, he couldn’t see himself escaping alive.

  “So, do you think we can do some business?” Hawk asked.

  Demby nodded. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “Well, how can I help you?”

  Demby leaned back in his chair. “Sefadu Holdings has some sensitive product that requires export. With some of the recent uprisings, it’s become very difficult to move our product out of the country to some of the unique locations we do business with.”

  “And that’s where I come in?”

  “We were hoping you could provide a solution for us—at least you intimated as much.”

  Hawk nodded. “Let’s dispense with the vague talk, Mr. Demby. Are we talking diamonds?”

  Demby nodded.

  “In that case, I can assure you that I’ll have no problem moving your product for you. I’ve moved hundreds of similar products between countries using my taxidermy business and have never even had a client searched twice in customs.”

  A faint smile spread across Demby’s face. “Tell me more.”

  “It’s a very simple process. I create an animal that has space inside. I work some of my magic—and even the best customs agent with his high-powered scanner will never be the wiser. And that’s a promise.”

  “Who transports the product?”

  “It’s your product, so naturally you do. That way you don’t have to worry about taking your eyes off your prized possession. You can check the stuffed animal that's serving as a mule for your pr
oduct. Then you pick up the animal at baggage claim—and no one has a clue what you’re really doing.” Hawk eyed Demby closely. “Do you have someone who can fly with your product?”

  Demby nodded. “I do. And this sounds easy enough. What’s your fee?”

  “Two-hundred-fifty-thousand U.S. dollars per transaction. I trust that won’t be a problem.”

  “Not at all. But we’re kind of in a hurry. How quickly can you make this happen?”

  “If you buy the ticket, I can have you heading out of the country tomorrow on a plane? Fast enough for you?”

  Demby smiled again. “Most definitely.”

  Hawk offered his hand, which Demby shook. “So, where do I sign?”

  Before Demby could answer, he was approached by one of his lieutenants who proceeded to whisper in Demby’s ear before walking away and standing against the wall.

  Demby glared at Hawk.

  “Do we have a problem?” Hawk asked.

  “I think we do, Mr. Martin,” Demby said, drawing his gun. “Now, who are you?”

  Hawk put his hands up. “We must have a misunderstanding of sorts. I-I don’t know what this is all about.”

  “I’m quite certain you do.”

  Hawk cocked his head to one side.

  “I wish I could help you, but if this is how it’s going to be, I’ll be leaving now.” Hawk made a move toward the door.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  Hawk fumbled for the right words. “Like I said, I’m afraid this has been a—a big misunderstanding.”

  “I’m afraid it hasn’t. I’ve been cynical about you for several days now, while everyone around me convinced me that you were legitimate. Well, apparently you aren’t.”

  Hawk put his hands in the air. “Regardless of what you might think you know about me, I’m still your best bet to move your product. Now, if you have specific questions, just give me a chance to explain.”

  “I have little tolerance for people like yourself.”

  “I swear, whatever information you’re getting about me that’s making you pull a gun is bad information. My name is Oliver Martin, and I’m a taxidermist from New Zealand.”

  Demby walked over to Hawk and pistol-whipped him in the back of the head, sending Hawk to the floor.