The Shadow Hunter (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 1)

by R. J. Patterson

  “You’ve made your position known,” Norris said. “That’ll be the end of that. Are we clear?”

  Miller nodded without saying another word.

  Norris dismissed the meeting. The trap had been set.

  CHAPTER 22

  Yakutsk, Russia

  EDDIE TYSON UNLOCKED the series of deadbolts to his apartment and then slid his gym bag across the floor. He re-locked the front door and collapsed onto the couch in the living room, closing his eyes and relaxing for a moment. When he got up, he stumbled over to the light switch and turned on the overhead fixtures.

  Tyson shrieked as he noticed the man sitting in a lounge chair on the other side of the room.

  “Holy hell, man,” Tyson said. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Brady Hawk grinned. “How are you, T-Bone?”

  Tyson shook his head before returning to the living room. “You know how long it’s been since someone called me that?”

  “Based off your question, I’m guessing it’s been a minute.”

  “Ten or twelve years, at least,” Tyson said. “So, yeah, a lot of minutes.”

  “T-Bone is still a far better nickname than Dmitri.”

  Tyson cocked his head to one side. “How do you know that’s my name? There’s nothing linking my identity to that name.”

  “I wouldn’t consider a picture nothing,” Hawk said.

  “How did you—”

  “T-Bone, you think I just walked away from the SEALs with all that training and got a desk job in a place like Topeka processing mortgages?”

  “No, but I—”

  “I’ve worked for the government in one capacity or another for about a decade until recently.”

  “So you’re here on your own?”

  Hawk squinted. “In a manner of speaking. I was contacted about your situation and asked if I’d like to help.”

  Tyson withdrew and scowled. “My situation? What’s my situation?”

  “Well, up until last night, we all thought you were in the Yakutsk prison.”

  “Bastards,” Tyson said with a growl. “You can’t trust the Russians as far as you can throw them.”

  “Are you surprised that we thought that?”

  “My death was faked, reported in the news and everything,” Tyson said.

  “We got a tip that you were in prison here,” Hawk said.

  “You came to break me out?”

  Hawk nodded.

  “You came all the way here just for me?”

  “Do you remember that time we were diving in that wreckage off the coast during training?”

  “Sure,” Tyson said. “As I recall, you got stuck and needed some help getting free. So I helped you.”

  A faint smile spread across Hawk’s lips.

  “What?” Tyson asked.

  “I got stuck and needed some help? That’s quite the tame retelling.”

  “That’s not how it happened?”

  “Perhaps if you’re just sharing a factual account, but it certainly didn’t feel like that in the moment. I thought I was going to die. And if you didn’t save me that day, I’m not sure I’d be alive to sit here and talk to you right now.”

  “Perspective, I guess,” Tyson said. “I don’t remember it being such a dire situation.”

  “You were born with ice water in your veins,” Hawk said. “I’ve had to cultivate that trait.”

  Tyson crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “Well, I’m sorry you felt like you needed to come halfway across the world to save me, especially to this godforsaken place.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I feel bad that you’ve risked your life to come here to get me, but I’m not leaving.”

  Hawk leaned forward and knit his brow. “You want to stay here?”

  “Hmmm,” Tyson said, tapping his chin with his index finger. “The word want makes that such a loaded question. It’s more like I need to stay here.”

  “Are you here on assignment?” Hawk asked.

  “Oh, no,” Tyson said, waving dismissively at Hawk. “I’m here because I want to be. In fact, I sought out the Russians and the FSB.”

  “But why? You’re a patriot. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense to someone who doesn’t know what’s going on. But if you knew what’s really happening, you’d understand.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  Tyson hesitated, unsure how much he should divulge, even if Hawk seemed like a trustworthy ally. “It’s not really that simple.”

  “Are you worried about talking freely?” Hawk asked.

  Tyson glanced around the room. “I regularly scan for bugs here, but up until a few minutes ago, I didn’t think anyone could get in my apartment and re-lock the door without me knowing.”

  “I’m a well-trained agent,” Hawk said.

  “During my time here, I’ve learned that FSB agents go through an extensive training process as well. But they’ve never penetrated my analog defense system here.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Deadbolts and bug sweeps? You’re high tech and you know it.”

  “Look, the truth is, it’s more dangerous for me to go home than to stay here.”

  Hawk’s eyes locked with Tyson’s. “What exactly are you running from?”

  “I appreciate you coming here, Hawk. I really do. For you to leave your family and trek across the world to put your own life on the line, it’s an incredible sacrifice. But that doesn’t mean it was the right one.”

  “Why not?” Hawk asked. “Help me understand what I’m missing here.”

  “I’m not going back. Not now. Not ever.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Tyson drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “If I tell you, you’d be at risk, too.”

  Hawk nodded. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “But I’m not gonna put that burden on you.”

  “Come on, T-Bone. I came this whole way and left my family to save you, to bring you back to your son,” Hawk said, flashing a photo of Tyson’s son. “I have a son about the same age, and let me just say that he needs you, if he’s anything like my kid. Pretending like you’re dead while building a new life here isn’t what’s best for him.”

  “He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Tyson asked.

  “Yeah, but at what cost? He needs you.”

  “He needs me to be dead. And that’s where I’m going to stay.”

  “Come on, T-Bone,” Hawk said, handing a recent photo of Tyson’s son to him. “Does that look like a little boy who can just go through life thinking his father is dead?”

  “You need to respect my decision,” Tyson said.

  “Fine,” Hawk said. “Can I at least get a drink with you before I leave?”

  “Why not?” Tyson said. “You came this far, so it’s the least I can do.”

  Tyson emptied his pockets on the end table before getting up and ambling to the kitchen. He pulled a couple of glasses out of the cupboard and opened a pair of beers.

  “Russian beer isn’t any good, but it’s all I’ve got to offer at the moment,” Tyson said.

  “Well, I’m sick of vodka already,” Hawk said.

  “You wouldn’t last a week here,” Tyson said as he poured their drinks.

  Moments later, he ventured into the living room and handed one glass to Hawk.

  “Cheers, my friend,” Tyson said. “And best of luck on your journey home.”

  * * *

  HAWK LEFT TYSON’S APARTMENT in bewilderment. The cryptic excuse, the conspiratorial tone, the willingness to shrug off his son—it all bothered Hawk. Despite his best to avoid striking an adversarial tone, Hawk hadn’t succeeded. But maybe Tyson was justified in behaving this way, and there really was something else bigger going on. However, Hawk felt uneasy.

  He picked up his burner phone and dialed Mia’s number.

  “Well, if it isn’t Agent Hawk,” she said. “We had a bet going that
you’d been eaten by a bear in the wild.”

  “Did you lose any money?” he asked.

  “Not a dime.”

  “That a way,” Hawk said. “But that’s not why I called today.”

  “Got any good news for me?”

  “It’s a mix of good and bad. The good being that I found Tyson. The bad being that he refused to come with me.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “Nope. But I slipped that device Dr. Z gave me to the bottom of the end table in his living room. That ought to at least get you access to his phone and computer. I’m hoping you can then clear things up for us.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

  Hawk hung up, unsure if he’d just risked his life for a Russian defector.

  CHAPTER 23

  Washington, D.C.

  VICTOR EDGEFIELD TOOK a picture of the email before sending it to his contact. Even as he watched the image vanish from his device, Edgefield cringed. He wanted to be done. After he’d racked up a large gambling debt, he wanted to do what he could to eliminate it. And while that meant betraying his country, he didn’t want to be a traitor forever.

  Later that evening, Edgefield almost couldn’t believe the message when it came across his computer screen. It was exactly the kind of material his contact had stressed that he wanted, loaded with the insider information that had been prioritized.

  President Norris was willing to negotiate with what amounted to a terrorist threat, disguised as a nation.

  Edgefield re-read the message a second time and then a third. In the midst of a brewing crisis in the Pacific, Norris was willing to cede his position of strength in an effort to avoid any type of conflict. And while Edgefield wasn’t an expert in international peacekeeping policy, even he could see it as a loser, no matter what the polls suggested.

  But the poll attached to the email said otherwise as it pertained to the voters. And if there was anything that Edgefield had learned during his time at the U.S. State Department, it was that the only thing that mattered to presidents was public sentiment. When the people wanted something, the president was more than willing to give it to them to retain a high approval rating.

  Edgefield turned on the television and flipped to a news channel to see what else had happened in the world during the day. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed the email he’d received was at the epicenter of the globe.

  The newscaster set the scene for the situation in the Pacific between the U.S. and North Korea, explaining how the tensions had escalated. Then he turned his attention to an announcement from presidential candidate, Joseph Parker. The former senator from Ohio detailed how he would handle the potential conflict.

  “I know President Norris is more inclined to get aggressive in a situation like the one with North Korea, but not me,” Parker said. “I think it’d be best if we pursued a peace treaty. Japan is best situated to broker a deal between the U.S. and North Korea. I think our allies there could help create a situation that was beneficial to everyone involved.”

  Edgefield laughed aloud. The idea was preposterous. Kim Yong-ju wouldn’t listen to anyone, especially the Japanese. He was so prideful and narcissistic that if he didn’t come up with the idea himself, he wouldn’t even consider it.

  But the newscaster pushed the idea as if it was incubated in nothing less than a genius mind.

  Within seconds, the station’s social media page was awash with people dismissing the idea as sheer lunacy.

  Edgefield chuckled, realizing that his contact had been duped, fed a complete lie. Whoever had been responsible for the email had almost surely wanted Parker to see it. And Edgefield had made sure that happened. While the concept made him smile, it almost made him nervous. Someone had figured out his role in feeding administration intel to Parker’s team and used him to do so. At the end of the day, that meant that Edgefield had been compromised, which wasn’t a good thing.

  When Edgefield first started, he wasn’t sure who he was ultimately working for, nor did he care. The opportunity to rid himself of the crushing debt made him reluctant to ask questions. He justified agreeing to help: What would it hurt anyway? It’s not like I’m giving away state secrets.

  And they weren’t state secrets that could compromise national security. Edgefield’s contact had wanted specific information related to policy moves. As time passed, Edgefield’s hunch about who was receiving all the information grew stronger that it was someone connected closely with Joseph Parker, the man poised to challenge President Norris for the White House and possibly unseat him. That put Edgefield at ease, making him even slightly eager to assist in passing along what he learned from his position at the state department. If truth be told, Edgefield wasn’t exactly a fan of Norris or his policies. The president seemed spineless, easily swayed by the prevailing opinions of the day. But from what Edgefield knew about Joseph Parker, he was far more principled.

  Nevertheless, Edgefield knew he could lose his job if he got caught. A probe would undoubtedly lead back to him and that’d be the end of his career in Washington. Not that he was too concerned about it. He tolerated his job, but he wouldn’t shed a tear if he was fired. He’d already lost almost everything he cared about—everything but little Olly, his six-year-old son.

  Olly was the only reason Edgefield hadn’t moved halfway across the country and started over again. His wife Rebecca was ambitious, something he didn’t think much of when he first met her. They’d never intended to have any kids, both so focused on their own careers that they didn’t have time for raising a child. As Rebecca’s goals intensified, she also started to believe she could have it all and had begged him for a son. With Edgefield out of the agency, the idea of having a child didn’t seem so farfetched. He went along with it just as his gambling debts started to catch up with him. And everything else in his life spiraled out of control along with it.

  But not Olly. He kept Edgefield grounded and determined to stick around for every birthday party, school play, and t-ball game, even if Rebecca didn’t hide her resentment toward him. And while he could’ve spent more time with his son, Edgefield wondered if cutting ties with The Hatchet would bring more freedom, creating more father-son moments.

  Edgefield was jarred back to reality when his burner phone buzzed. He glanced at the name on the screen. It was The Hatchet.

  “I take it you got the information I sent you,” Edgefield said after he answered.

  “You screwed over my employer,” The Hatchet said. “In fact, you made him look like a fool.”

  “I don’t tell you what to do with the intel I give you. That’s up to you. You just asked me to pass it along.”

  “You played us and now you’re going to pay a price.”

  The Hatchet ended the call abruptly, leaving Edgefield alone with his thoughts.

  Pay a price?

  It was an ominous threat, one that Edgefield was inclined to take seriously given what he knew about The Hatchet. But there wasn’t anything Edgefield could do about it, other than arm himself. He couldn’t report his complicity in scurrilous activities to law enforcement. And he certainly couldn’t take the matter to his boss.

  Edgefield convinced himself that it was all bluster and nothing to worry about. Then he got up and fixed himself a cup of tea before getting ready for bed.

  * * *

  AS EDGEFIELD CLIMBED under the covers, he revisited The Hatchet’s conversation again, replaying it in his mind.

  Pay a price? What does that even mean?

  He pondered how he might handle any future confrontations. He checked the drawer in his nightstand for his pistol before turning off the light. If anyone tried anything on him, he could handle himself. After all, he’d worked for the agency and was trained in how to deal with any attackers.

  But all the training he’d endured didn’t prepare him for the rude awakening he received an hour later.

  A large hand clamped down over his mouth mere seconds before a needle pierced hi
s neck.

  Edgefield fought off the man, breaking free. Then he went on the offensive, rushing toward the man. But Edgefield took three steps before he collapsed, crashing face first onto the floor.

  CHAPTER 24

  Yakutsk, Russia

  HAWK SITUATED HIMSELF on the floorboard behind the passenger seat and covered himself with a blanket. He was counting on Tyson not noticing him hidden in the shadows of the dark parking garage when he got into the car. By Hawk’s estimation, Tyson would need to be in the vehicle in the next ten minutes if he was going to make the checkpoint on time.

  Before the mission, Morgan had given Hawk a vague warning about Tyson perhaps being resistant to return home. And while he had offered a plausible explanation, Hawk figured there had to be more to the story. He couldn’t conceive how a patriot like Tyson could go from wanting to protect his family to outright betraying his country. And Hawk was intent on getting some answers—and stopping Tyson.

  Hawk’s muscles burned as he remained still, crammed into the car. It had been a few years since such dedication to his craft was required. Breaking into corporate headquarters and the private homes of CEOs was relatively easy work. His life was never in jeopardy and long stakeouts weren’t necessary. But on this mission, Hawk had found himself tested at every turn, forced to survive and improvise. Now, he faced a more arduous task that wasn’t something he was accustomed to doing, even when he was the best asset at the Phoenix Foundation: Hawk needed to turn someone. And just hours earlier, Hawk hadn’t imagined it’d be something he would have to do.

  When he broke into Tyson’s home, Hawk bugged the apartment. He also attached a small fiber optics device to Tyson’s phone that allowed the Magnum team to intercept phone calls and texts. Dr. Z had invented it, tucking it in a small compartment in Hawk’s watch. The intel gathered from the device was why Hawk knew to hide in Tyson’s car.

  Mia snagged a text message to Tyson that gave him coordinates to deliver “the code.” She wasn’t sure what that meant when she initially read the note, but when she plugged in the coordinates and saw that it was located in North Korea, warning bells went off for her. Based on all the tension between the U.S. and North Korea, she figured it couldn’t just be a mere coincidence that the Russians were having an American deliver a secret code to North Korea. When she’d told Hawk, he recognized the masterstroke the Russians were attempting to make—a proxy war.