Brady Hawk Box Set

by R. J. Patterson

  Demby held his hand up to halt the beating. He walked slowly toward Hawk before stopping just inches from his face.

  “Do you think I’d be so unprepared as to not have alternative ways to transport my diamonds to their desired locations? Your scheme might be quicker, but there are other ways out of Sierra Leone. The threat of death can be a powerful persuader.”

  “Speaking of death, if you’re going to kill me, I advise you to do it now and make it quick.”

  Demby threw his head back and guffawed. “You’re not in any position to be telling me what to do.”

  Hawk glanced over at Ackerman and winked. With one ferocious pull, Hawk severed his bindings and hit Demby in the throat. Demby staggered backward before Hawk followed up with a flying kick to Demby’s chest.

  Surprised by Hawk’s sudden freedom, the guards scrambled to get into a position to shoot him. With Demby nearby, they appeared reluctant to shoot out of fear of hitting their leader.

  Hawk scurried behind another beam, utilizing it as a shield. He lunged for Demby’s body and dragged it back as the guards remained hesitant to take a shot. Hawk delivered a knockout blow to Demby’s face before scavenging his belt holster for a knife and handgun.

  With his back against the beam, Hawk craned his neck around the corner to assess the situation. Nothing had changed. One guard held Ackerman, another held a whip. Ibrahim and another guard stood about ten feet away from the other two—all four of them out in the open.

  Hawk eased to his feet by bracing his back against the beam and stayed out of sight from the guards. With one swift throw to his left, he took aim with the knife at one of the guards next to Ackerman. Before the knife found its target, Hawk spun to his right and shot both Ibrahim and the other guard in the head. By the time he turned back left, the guard holding Ackerman tightened his grip around her neck and fought with her to move backward. He dragged her behind a stack of wooden boxes.

  Seizing the opportunity to regain a tactical advantage, Hawk snuck behind a pile of cargo. He worked his way across the room and used the cargo lying around as a shield as he dashed from one hiding place to another. After about a minute, he’d climbed on a heavy-duty shelving unit, positioning himself above the guard and Ackerman.

  While Hawk would’ve preferred to shoot the guard, grab Ackerman, and escape, he refused to abandon the mission. He needed to know Demby’s plan for exporting the diamonds, information Hawk figured would be easier and quicker to extract from a guard than from Demby.

  Hawk took a deep breath and leapt onto the guard. Under the weight of Hawk, the man crumpled to the ground. Panicked, he started firing his gun, hitting Ackerman in the arm.

  She wailed in pain, writhing on the floor.

  “It’s okay, Doc. I’m gonna get you out of here,” Hawk said, breaking from his legend.

  Hawk turned his full attention to the man pinned beneath him. “Where are the diamonds?”

  “I-I don’t know. They never tell me anything.”

  Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “The way I see it, you’ve got three options. You can walk out of here, crawl out of here, or end your miserable existence on this very spot. It all depends on how you answer my next question. So, I’ll ask it again: Where are the diamonds?”

  “They’re headed for a train depot along that border that connects with Monrovia,” the guard answered.

  “Where can I find this train?” Hawk said.

  The man didn’t answer.

  Hawk jammed his gun into the man’s kneecap. “Remember when I said one of your options might be to crawl out of here?”

  The man nodded.

  “Where is this train?”

  “It’s a three-hour drive south of here on the Manu River. You’ll never make it in time.”

  Hawk punched the man in the face, knocking him out.

  Grabbing the guard’s gun and knife, Hawk re-armed himself and rushed over to Ackerman, who was reclining against a box several feet away.

  “You’re coming with me. You need help,” Hawk said.

  She waved him off. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute. I’ll get out of here on my own.”

  “You know more guards will be coming, don’t you?”

  Hawk didn’t wait for her answer, instead scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  “Making sure you get out of here alive. Ethan Jacobs will take care of you,” Hawk said as he ran for the door.

  “The outfitter? He’s in Demby’s pocket. You might as well be carrying me to my death.”

  “If I leave you here, you’re as good as dead anyway. Besides, I pegged Jacobs as a man who will do anything if the price is right.”

  “And you’re betting my life on the fact that the price you’re going to pay him is high enough?”

  “Would you rather bet it on the goodwill of these goons?”

  “I guess I’m gambling either way.”

  Hawk froze as he scanned the room near the door.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Demby. I was going to finish him, but he’s gone.”

  “He’s like a cockroach, I swear. You’re not the first person to come in here and try to kill him.”

  “If I’d tried to kill him, he’d already be dead.”

  ***

  AFTER DELIVERING ACKERMAN TO JACOBS and satiating him with a stack of cash, Hawk headed south on the Bo-Kenema Highway toward the border. Jacobs, who promised to keep Ackerman safe, proceeded to give Hawk a brief overview of the rail line located on the Liberian side of the Manu River. Primarily used for transporting mined elements to Monrovia for process and shipment, the Manu River Railway provided the safest route for Demby. The direct route and lack of regular civilian passengers meant Demby or his men were assured of reaching their destination with little or no threat of robbery.

  According to Jacobs, the train left the Manu station daily at midnight.

  “That gives you three hours or maybe four. This is Africa,” Jacobs said. He concluded his directions by telling Hawk how to slip across the Manu River undetected by the Liberian army.

  Hawk rushed to his vehicle, hoping to arrive on time. He used the long bumpy drive to formulate a plan for seizing the diamonds and get an update from Alex.

  “Alex, how are you on this fine evening?” he said, starting the phone conversation.

  “Better than you, I’m sure.”

  “I don’t know. Have you been whipped and shot at in the past six hours?”

  “Let me think while I sip on my latte. Hmmm. Nope. My biggest conflict in the last six hours was making sure some rude businessman didn’t steal my cab. I’m pretty sure, my evening is going better than yours.”

  “Great. I was hoping so. I also wanted to tell you that I’m not sure the missiles are here. If they are, Demby’s team has done a pretty good job of hiding them.”

  “Keep looking. Blunt swears they’re there somewhere.”

  “Will do, but I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.”

  ***

  FIVE MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT, Hawk pulled up to the station. There was little activity around the rail yard. A few men trudged past Hawk and hopped onto a flatbed truck that already had at least a dozen men in the back. Then Hawk heard a sound that made him panic.

  The train on the track at least fifty meters away wooshed, releasing its breaks and chugging forward.

  Hawk broke into a sprint, going largely ignored by the workers still scattered on the grounds. As he reached the platform, the train was clear by ten meters and gaining speed. Hawk didn’t hesitate, leaping off the platform and racing after the train on the track. And after twenty seconds of hard running, he caught up with the final car and grabbed onto it before pulling himself up.

  One by one, Hawk shimmied between the two-dozen cars trailing the engine until he found one that contained a pair of Demby’s henchmen.

  Look what we have here.

  It was dark, but he could m
ake out at least one familiar face. One of the men was holding a briefcase. The other pulled a gun, training it on Hawk.

  Hawk put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. I don’t want any trouble.”

  He noticed a hatch above the two men had been left open. Backing slowly out of the door, he scaled the outer portion of the car before climbing on top. He peered through the hatch and could make out silhouettes of the men.

  Here it goes.

  He jumped feet first through the hatch, surprising the men as they tumbled to the ground. Hawk immobilized the one with the gun first, kicking the weapon out of the man’s hand before shoving him out the door.

  The guard holding the briefcase drew his weapon and prepared to shoot Hawk before he dove to the ground and caught the man off guard. Hawk ripped his knife out of his pocket and slung it at the guard, hitting him square in the chest. The guard clutched the knife before dropping his weapon and collapsing.

  Five minutes into the trip, Hawk had gained possession of the diamonds, but he needed to exit immediately. He grabbed the handle of the suitcase and peered into the Liberian jungle, lit only by a pale moon. With each passing second, Hawk realized it would make his journey back to his car and then to Koidu that much longer. He needed to jump soon.

  Hawk stuck his head out of the car and peered into the dark forest surrounding the train. He noticed a small clearing up ahead that looked like it would make for a safe landing spot. Hugging the briefcase, he jumped.

  Hawk landed hard, rolling for at least twenty meters before coming to a stop. With at least an hour hike ahead of him, Hawk first stopped and removed the diamonds from the briefcase. He shoved them into his pocket and began his journey back toward the station to his vehicle.

  ***

  IT WAS NEARLY 2:00 a.m. when Hawk returned to his Forerunner and headed north on the Bo-Kenema Highway. He jammed his foot on the gas and called Alex. After debriefing her on the details of the mission, he decided to delve into other matters with her for his long drive back to Yokodu.

  “Talk to me, Alex,” he said.

  “What do you want to know about?”

  “It’s just past two here, and I’m about to fall asleep. Anything that will keep me awake will suffice.”

  “What about my love life?”

  “I said anything that will keep me awake.”

  “Apparently being a bad ass operative doesn’t suppress your sardonic wit.”

  Hawk chuckled. “What can I say? I possess many skills.”

  “Not sure I have much interesting to say about my love life, but there are some other interesting developments taking place right now.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’d rather save this type of conversation for when we meet in person.”

  “And break protocol again?”

  Alex sighed. “Since when did you suddenly start caring about following all the rules?”

  “Good point.”

  “Yes, but I’m still failing miserably at coming up with a conversation to keep you awake.”

  “Mulling over what you can’t say might suffice, though if it doesn’t work, it’s not like I can pull into a convenience store and grab a Red Bull for the ride.”

  “You know where to find me if that doesn’t work.”

  “There is one thing you can tell me.”

  Alex’s voice perked up. “What’s that?”

  “Have you been able to find those missiles with any satellite imaging?”

  “Nope. Not a thing. I’m beginning to wonder if that was bad intel.”

  “Maybe, but there are some questionable characters here.”

  “Hawk, you’re in godforsaken Sierra Leone. The chances of you finding any person who doesn’t have questionable character are slim to none.”

  “There are a few here who seem to be more than your run of the mill riffraff.”

  “What about that tracking device Colton gave you?”

  “Nothing so far,” Hawk said as he shifted in his seat and rubbed his eyes. “I wonder if he’s got a problem with his tracker.”

  “Well, at least you got the diamonds.”

  “I doubt Blunt will be satisfied with that.”

  “Just be careful, Hawk, okay?”

  “It’s hard to be careful when you’re committed.”

  He ended the call and rubbed the corner of his eyes again. A shot of caffeine would be nice, but there were plenty of other things to think about, starting with the issue of Ackerman’s health. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he left her.

  ***

  WHEN HAWK RETURNED to Yokodu around 6:00 a.m., he needed to stash the diamonds somewhere safe for leverage. Keeping them on his person created a more dangerous situation, one where he could be simply robbed at gunpoint and the fruits of his hard work would vanish. He found a spot about a mile from the outfitters just off the side of the road. Hawk dug a small hole and buried the sack at the base of a tree, which he marked by carving a design on it with a knife.

  When Hawk pulled into the outfitters parking lot, he noticed a light in the lobby was still on. Before going to his room, he stopped in to see if anyone was milling around. He’d already decided that he was going to sleep in a different room, talk to an employee of the mine about the missiles, and embark on one final search for them before concluding his unfinished business with Demby.

  After calling out several times with no reply, Hawk slipped behind the counter and grabbed a key to another room. He’d almost disappeared before he heard Ethan Jacobs calling for him.

  “Brady Hawk, is that you?” Jacobs asked.

  Hawk spun around and saw Jacobs standing in the doorway behind the counter. “How’s Dr. Ackerman?”

  “She’s fine. Just a flesh wound. I got her patched up.”

  “Thanks for doing that.”

  Jacobs smiled. “My pleasure.” He paused. “She told me that she wanted to see you whenever you returned, no matter what time it was.”

  Hawk glanced up at the clock behind the counter. “It’s late.”

  “She emphasized any time. And to be honest, I doubt she’s gone to sleep since you left. She was worried sick about you.”

  “Fine. I’ll poke my head in to see if she’s awake.”

  “Room eleven at the end of the hall.”

  Hawk nodded and meandered toward Ackerman’s door. It was cracked, and he knocked softly before pushing it open.

  Instead of seeing her propped up in bed, she was gagged and tied to a chair.

  “Doc?” he said as he rushed in.

  She writhed in her seat, trying to get his attention. But it was too late.

  Demby, who’d been hiding in a corner of the room, slammed the door shut and trained his gun on Hawk.

  “Easy there, Mr. Martin—or whatever the hell your name is,” Demby said. “Keep those hands where I can see them, and slowly turn around.”

  Hawk complied, raising his hands in the air.

  “I heard what you did to my men on the train. Quite impressive. But now I hold the upper hand. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

  “What do you want?” Hawk asked.

  “It’s simple. I want an exchange—the diamonds for the doctor.”

  CHAPTER 35

  BLUNT SLICED INTO HIS SLAB of crispy pork at the Blue Duck Tavern, his favorite Beltway restaurant. He dreamed about hiring a personal chef who could cook that well and serve his favorite dish on the menu everyday. He was convinced he’d never grow tired of pork. The waiter slipped up to the table and asked Blunt if he was satisfied with how his meal tasted.

  “Just rename this dish mana,” Blunt said, “because this has to be straight from Heaven.”

  The waiter nodded. “I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”

  “Pass on my compliments? Hell, I wanna hire the man.”

  Blunt guided another succulent piece of meat into his mouth and took his time eating every last morsel. He was finished and waiting on his bana
na cream pie for dessert when his phone buzzed.

  Cursing under his breath, Blunt answered his phone, speaking in hushed tones.

  “Please tell me the world isn’t falling apart again,” Blunt said.

  “The situation has changed since we last spoke.”

  Blunt sighed and put his elbows on the table before leaning forward. “What is it this time? Hawk?”

  “Yes, he’s run into a bit of a roadblock.”

  “A bit of one? Or one that covers the entire highway?”

  “The latter, sir. He’s got one hour to return the diamonds or else Demby is going to kill a doctor working with a humanitarian aid project.”

  “Screw the doctor. Tell him to get outta there. He got what he went for.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Blunt stood up and decided to slip outside so he could talk more freely.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Blunt asked as he exited the restaurant.

  “What I mean, sir, is that he hasn’t retrieved the weapons. And if he leaves now, he won’t be able to retrieve them now—or ever, since his cover has likely been blown already.”

  “I’m not greedy. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “But, sir, you’ve stressed how important those missiles are. Don’t you—?”

  “Tell Hawk to get the hell outta there. That’s an order.”

  “Roger that,” Alex said. “I think he might need an extraction, too.”

  Blunt growled. “An extraction? He knows the rules. There’ll be no extractions on these missions. He’s on his own, and if he can’t figure out a way back home, that’s his own damn problem.”

  “So, you’re just going to let the diamonds fall back into their hands? Seems like a waste of a good operative to me.”

  “Save your philosophical waxing for someone who cares,” Blunt said before he hung up his phone.