The Shadow Hunter (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 1)

by R. J. Patterson

  Hawk thanked Wilson for the weapon and then caught the team up to speed while they buried their scuba gear.

  “Just how exactly do you intend to get the codes back?” Wilson asked. “I imagine the North Koreans have made several copies for safe keeping by now.”

  “Of course they have,” Hawk said. “But what good are the codes on nuclear weapons that don’t work?”

  “So you want to sabotage the missiles?” Finch asked.

  Hawk nodded. “At this point, that’s our only option. And from what I understand, there were only two codes that the Russians were giving them.”

  “Those bastard commies,” Jackson said. “They just want to start a war and then sit back and watch it all burn.”

  “Let’s just make sure that doesn’t happen,” Wilson said. “So how do you see this going down?”

  “If we’re going to get out of here alive, we need to be as discreet as possible,” Hawk said. “The harbor is teeming with guards. More arrived this morning, signaling that North Korea must be close to unleashing the weapon on the U.S. I don’t think we can delay this operation at all.”

  “Fine with me,” Jackson said. “The quicker we get out of here, the better.”

  “I think we all feel that way,” Finch said.

  Hawk offered a thin smile. “I know I am. But before we get back, we’ve got plenty of work to do. So, here’s what I’ve got. I stole a van earlier tonight and switched out the plates. I doubt anyone will even notice it’s gone, so we should have until the morning before that will raise any suspicion. I also have one uniform, which is enough since I’m the only one who’ll be entering the area patrolled around the pier.”

  “So what’s your plan of attack?” Wilson asked.

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  Hawk motioned for the team to follow him to the vehicle. However, just as they arrived at the van, he heard a stick snap in the distance.

  “Everybody freeze.”

  All the men drew their weapons and moved around the side of a large rock, using it for cover. Another minute passed before any of the men said anything. Hawk was starting to question if he’d actually heard anything or if the sleep deprivation—and the events of the last seventy-two hours—had made him paranoid. He had more than his fair share of reasons to be on edge.

  “Maybe it was nothing,” Jackson said.

  Hawk closed his eyes and listened. He was certain someone else was in the woods, though he couldn’t be sure if it was a hostile. He shook his head.

  “What?” Wilson asked.

  “I don’t know, but I think someone is out there,” Hawk said.

  “Could just be a couple of teenagers looking for a place to hook up,” Jackson suggested. “This place is isolated enough that it’d make a great spot.”

  “I doubt it,” Hawk said. “I’ve been here for hours and haven’t heard even the slightest engine sound other than a few trawlers trying to beat the dusk curfew. Teenagers aren’t that quiet either.”

  “American teenagers aren’t,” Finch said. “But maybe they are in North Korea.”

  “Let’s stay here for a few minutes more, just to be sure,” Wilson whispered.

  Satisfied that no one was there, the team stepped out into the open and headed toward Hawk’s van, first Wilson followed by Finch and Jackson. Hawk brought up the rear.

  Before they knew what was going on, Wilson crumpled to the forest floor. Finch fell face forward on top of his commander. Jackson almost bowled Hawk over as he scrambled for cover. The two men moved through the darkness and took up a new position.

  “Do you have any infrared goggles?” Hawk asked. “Because now would be a great time to use them.”

  Jackson reached into his ruck sack and pulled out a pair, using them to scan the area.

  “Anything?” Hawk asked in a hushed tone.

  Jackson shook his head subtly. A bullet pinged off the rock, sending both men diving to the ground for cover.

  “Was anyone following you?” Hawk asked, putting out his hand for the binoculars.

  “No,” Jackson said, handing them to Hawk. “We were miles away from everyone. I don’t think anyone would’ve been able to follow us underwater.”

  “Well, somebody knew where you were headed and sent a greeting party.”

  “They’re not very friendly,” Jackson said.

  Another bullet whizzed overhead, taking a few branches with it.

  “We need to split up,” Hawk said. “Sticking together makes it easy for them to pin us down, whoever they are.”

  “Roger that.”

  Hawk stayed low, crouching as he moved around, utilizing the trees for cover. He snatched Wilson’s ruck sack off his back and kept moving. With Hawk’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a faint silhouette of Jackson darting away in the opposite direction.

  When Hawk identified a good spot for a blind, he pulled out the binoculars and surveyed the area. He noticed a group of six seals, huddled together to undoubtedly plot their next move.

  Hawk realized he wouldn’t have a better chance than this to take them all out. He grabbed a grenade from Wilson’s pack and hurled it in the direction of the men. One of the men shouted as the device exploded, sending shrapnel hurling in every direction. Hawk watched everyone scatter, except for two men, who laid facedown and appeared lifeless.

  Hawk had reduced the deficit, but he was still in trouble being outnumbered two to one.

  At least it isn’t three to one anymore.

  Hawk had lost track of some of the men. But one man looked very familiar. Hawk gasped as he double-checked the man’s face. Despite the darkness, Doug Mitchell’s neck tattoo was too distinct.

  That’s him all right. What the hell is he doing out here trying to kill us?

  Hawk couldn’t believe Mitchell would betray his country like he was. Throwing all caution to the wind, Hawk shouted into the night air.

  “Mitchell, what are you doing?” Hawk asked. “We’re on the same side.”

  Mitchell didn’t respond with words, just his weapon. He fired a pair of shots toward Hawk’s general vicinity.

  Hawk prepared to fire when he heard gunshots coming from the direction of the boulder where the rest of the team had been hiding. For a moment, Hawk thought maybe either Wilson or Finch was still alive. But when he focused in on that direction, he saw Jackson collapse near the other two bodies.

  Hawk cursed as he realized the implications of what had just happened.

  Now the odds are worse — four to one.

  Hawk peered through his binoculars and saw one man still struggling from the aftermath of the grenade. He fired at the man, a bullet striking him in the chest.

  Getting better — three to one.

  As Hawk was trying to figure out a way to reduce the odds even further, he heard a vehicle engine roaring toward their position. The men began to scatter deeper into the woods as headlights swept across the trees.

  Hawk glanced at the three SEALs all lying within a few feet of one another. With the vehicle still rumbling toward their direction but close enough to make visual contact, Hawk sprinted toward the bodies to snag their gear. Without it, he had no chance of survival, let alone sabotaging the weapons.

  Hawk dove down and worked frantically to pull the essential items from their ruck sacks and combined them into one pack. However, as he was going through a second bag, he felt a shot rip through his shoulder.

  “See ya round, Hawk,” a man shouted.

  Hawk recognized Mitchell’s voice.

  That was the last thing Hawk heard before he blacked out.

  CHAPTER 31

  Bridger, Montana

  VIKTOR KOMAROV HONED in on Alex Hawk’s position. He watched as she held her son in her lap and read him a story. She smiled as she turned the pages, her face full of expressions even though the boy was fixated on the pictures inside.

  Viktor had readily volunteered for this dangerous mission, though he thought it sounded rather simple.
While he specialized in assassinations, he didn’t care for them as much as some of Andrei Orlovsky’s other men. However, this mission was personal.

  Komarov moved quickly across the mountainside, scrambling over boulders and gliding across fallen trees spanning cold water creeks. The most recent snow had been a few days ago, but a recent stretch of sunshine had melted most everything but the places shrouded by heavy shadows. He was careful to avoid muddy or snowy patches so he wouldn’t leave behind any trace of his presence there.

  Komarov noticed a pair of guards patrolling the perimeter of the home. He’d seen two other men near the gate leading up to the property, but they were easy to slip past in a wide open landscape. However, the two men lurking along the porch, one in the front and the other in the back, created a challenge.

  An owl hooted overhead in a pine tree near the edge of the fence where a pair of horses galloped in circles. Viktor remained calm and assessed how he would kill the woman. He hadn’t decided if he was going to kill the boy. Letting him grow up without a mother was cruel, something he knew firsthand when he lost his mom during a mafia hit in the marketplace that went south.

  Now, Komarov had lost a brother at the hands of a U.S. operative named Brady Hawk. The American had somehow thrown his brother off the side of a cliff. He was the last living relative Komarov had. He’d endured unimaginable pain in his life, but his brother Dima had helped him get through all the suffering, there when nobody else was. But there was nobody to help Viktor get past the death of Dima. Viktor felt abandoned in the world and he couldn’t suppress his rage any longer.

  Since the death of his mother, Viktor had exacted revenge on every loved one who’d been killed, either violently or senselessly. He was going to make sure Brady Hawk would feel the pain in the deepest of ways.

  Viktor focused his binoculars on Alex still sitting with her son. For a moment, Viktor contemplated how traumatic it would be for the little boy to be cuddled up with his mother reading a book only to have her head explode all over him. While Viktor smiled at the thought, he resisted the urge.

  No, this has to be more personal.

  He smiled again as he moved closer toward the house.

  CHAPTER 32

  Sonbong, North Korea

  HAWK OPENED HIS EYES, trying to focus as his head bounced in rhythm with the bumps in the road. The low hum of tires beneath him clued him in that he was riding in the bed of a military transport truck. As he moved, he winced from the pain in his shoulder, which was still bleeding. He scanned the back and didn’t see any soldiers. Instead, there was just a mass of tangled bodies, arms and feet intertwined.

  Hawk sucked a breath through his teeth as he freed himself from the weight of the other soldiers. He reached out and closed Wilson’s eyes, his blank stare haunting Hawk. The three brave SEALs who’d volunteered for the mission were all dead, and Hawk wanted to know how it had happened. The leak had to happen somewhere between the time the Magnum office received his call for help and the SEALs unit stationed in the Pacific was contacted. And it angered Hawk. Three patriots died needlessly because of a mole. But what made Hawk angrier was the fact that Doug Mitchell, more commonly known as the Reaper, had led such a mission against his own countrymen.

  However, Hawk didn’t have time to ponder that at the moment. He had a nuclear warhead to sabotage.

  Hawk groped around until he found the ruck sack he’d been stuffing before the Reaper took him out with a shoulder shot. Inside, Hawk found all the tools he needed to wreak havoc on Kim Yong-ju’s plans to strike America, including a device designed by Dr. Z with his trademarked logo on it. Hawk smiled as he pocketed the gadget, looking forward to talking with Dr. Z more upon returning to the U.S.

  Once Hawk strapped the pack onto his back, he crawled near the edge of the bed and waited for the truck to slow down. After a minute, the driver hit the brakes for a sharp curve. When he did, Hawk seized his chance to bail out. He rolled over the side, staggering to avoid falling on his shoulder. He hustled over into the bushes off the side of the road and dressed his wound.

  Once he was finished, Hawk used the phone in his pack to let the Magnum office know what had happened. After he left a message filling them in, he stayed in the shadows as he headed back toward the Sonbong docks. He walked for a half-hour before he found the shore line. The rest of the trip back toward the military harbor was uneventful with the exception of a few sweeping headlights that sent him rushing toward the nearest clump of bushes or trees to hide. But the vehicles came and passed without incident.

  When Hawk reached the docks, he found a place where he could change into the North Korean uniform he’d stolen earlier. Tugging his hat low across his forehead, Hawk marched down to the docks, nodding at the guard as he confidently strode toward him. The guard acknowledged Hawk with a slight head bob and swung open the gate.

  Hawk entered the secure area and began his search for the warheads. As far as he knew, there were only two warheads with nuclear capability. His job was relatively simple—permanently disarm them.

  He moved into the interior and found one guard patrolling the area. Hawk slipped up behind the man and broke his neck. Hawk found a sandbag nearby and attached it to the man’s body with a rope before dropping him into the water just off the dock. Then Hawk spied another guard strolling past two missiles, which were still situated on a transport truck.

  Affixing a silencer to the end of his weapon, Hawk shot the man at point blank and then stuffed him into a locker in the corner.

  With the room clear, Hawk didn’t want to waste any time. He scaled the truck and started to disarm the weapon. Following instructions that were in a mission packet on Commander Wilson’s phone, Hawk rendered the two missiles toothless in just under fifteen minutes. He fried the motherboard, meaning that the codes wouldn’t arm the devices. And as a result, they’d never detonate. Hawk knew North Korea didn’t have the expertise in handling the weapons and would see them as useless.

  Using Dr. Z’s device, Hawk altered the navigational controls on the missile. Then he stripped a handful of wires out, rendering the nuclear capability of the weapon inoperable. If the North Koreans thought that Russia sold them a bill of goods, it’d be even better for the U.S. interests. Putting two of America’s biggest enemies at each other’s throats was little more than a pipe dream in Washington. But it’d become a reality when Kim Yong-ju ordered the missile strike, and the military would launch a dud. Accusations would fly and Russia would be blamed for the failure.

  When Hawk finished, he pulled his cap down low across his brow again and walked toward the gate to exit the facility. His heart was pounding as he approached the guard.

  Right as Hawk passed through the exit, a man shouted for him. Hawk stopped and turned around.

  “Is your shift up so soon?” the soldier asked in Korean.

  Hawk glanced down and saw blood leaking through his uniform. Thinking quickly, he feigned a cough and answered in his best Korean with a gravelly voice. “I don’t feel well. I think I have a virus.”

  The man waved dismissively at Hawk, who put his head down and trudged away.

  When he reached a safe distance from the harbor, Hawk found a back alley where he could change. He then hiked in the direction of the most eastern point of the Sonbong harbor. Once he was back in the woods, he pulled out the commander’s phone and dialed the number demarcated as Big Earv.

  Hawk waited as the phone rang. After the sixth ring, the call went to voicemail. Hawk cursed under his breath before sitting down on a rock. Until Big Earv called him back, Hawk was stranded.

  He paced around to pass the time, but that only made him more nervous. Any minute, the woods could be crawling again with North Korean soldiers. If Hawk stayed hidden, it wouldn’t be an issue. He couldn’t help but think about Alex.

  He took a breath and pulled out his phone, checking it again to see if Big Earv had called him.

  Still nothing.

  The sun started to rise across the water,
increasing the difficulty for Hawk’s escape across the water. He decided to call Alex and let her know that he’d at least succeeded. And he also wanted to find out how she was doing.

  But when he called her, she didn’t answer.

  CHAPTER 33

  Bridger, Montana

  ALEX SPLASHED WARM WATER on her face after brushing her teeth. She squinted before taking a moment to study herself more closely, her green eyes unable to mask the redness in them. She’d cried more in the time since Hawk left than she did at any other point in her marriage. The stress of him leaving was heavy. But if she was honest, she was torn.

  Raising John Daniel was tough, so much so that on most days she considered tracking terrorists all over the globe with her life on the line to be an easier task. She took a deep breath before tying her hair up in a messy bun. She walked past John Daniel’s room before stopping and peeking inside. For a moment, she lingered in the doorway, watching him sleep peacefully.

  Maybe it’s not so bad.

  Alex couldn’t help but sense an enormous amount of guilt just for feeling that way.

  Surely no other mother feels this way about her own children.

  But she wanted to get back in the game. And even though she wasn’t playing a pivotal role in Hawk’s mission, she craved the action, the intensity, the adrenaline rush that accompanied being within minutes of thousands of innocent people dying before your team stops it. The pros far outweighed the cons, and she wanted back in. But how?

  John Daniel required constant attention. He’d be starting school in the upcoming fall, but could she really handle the rigors of hunting terrorists and exposing conspiracies against the U.S. government in between PTA meetings, feeding the horses, and helping John Daniel with his homework every night? She wasn’t sure she could, but she was willing to try.

  However, she hadn’t yet expressed to Hawk her desire to return to the field, who had repeatedly shared how happy he was with their new lifestyle. Yet part of Alex remained empty.

  She closed the door to John Daniel’s room and walked down the hall, determining to tell him upon his return.