The Shadow Hunter (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 1)

by R. J. Patterson

  “I’m okay,” Alex said as Hawk answered.

  “Thank goodness,” he said. “But did you get a visit from one of Orlovsky’s men?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “He eventually came around the property.”

  “And?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Hawk paused. “Did you kill him?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” she said. “I more or less helped him to his death by tossing him over the upstairs balcony.”

  “Orlovsky has to think you’re dead or he’s going to keep coming around.”

  “I’ve already been thinking about how I’m going to stage the picture of my death before I send the confirmation image back to Orlovsky.”

  Hawk chuckled. “I should’ve known better than to even suggest that to you. Of course you’re already on it.”

  “And based off your voicemail, you’re all right too, aren’t you?”

  “Big Earv and I made it out, but there’s still more work to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “We need to hunt down whoever’s leaking sensitive information. Three Navy SEALs are dead as a result, and if we hadn’t gotten a little lucky, we would’ve missed our chance to sabotage the nuclear warheads.”

  “Well, I’m glad I didn’t know about everything as it was happening,” she said. “I’ve at least been sleeping some of the night.”

  Hawk waited a moment before responding. “I need you, Alex.”

  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, if I’m going to do this, I need you helping me.”

  “So you want to keep working for Magnum?”

  “I do, but I know how you feel about it. Can we at least talk about it when I get back?”

  “Sure. We can have a conversation,” she said. “But right now, I’ve got a dead body to clean up. And I need to let Morgan know what went down here tonight.”

  “Of course,” Hawk said. “See you soon.”

  Alex dialed Morgan’s number, waking her in the middle of the night.

  “What is it?” Morgan asked groggily.

  “We’ve got a mess out here at our ranch, and we’re going to need some help covering it up.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Los Angeles

  A WEEK LATER, Hawk and Alex joined the Magnum team in their underground headquarters to discuss the operation as well as the fallout from North Korea’s attempted launch of nuclear weapons. Despite the attempt by rogue actors within the U.S. military to provoke North Korea by going beyond what President Norris commanded, the tensions seemed to ease. All U.S. Naval ships had returned to their usual patrolling routes, and Kim Yong-ju was no longer rattling his saber, undoubtedly humbled by his failed attempt to strike at the U.S.

  Hawk wore a sling to help with his recovery, though he only used it due to Alex’s insistence that he did. He received a raucous ovation when he entered the conference room with Alex.

  “Please,” Hawk said, holding up his good arm, “this isn’t necessary. I was just doing my job, which happened to be something completely different than what I was supposed to do.”

  As the clapping subsided, Hawk and Alex found a pair of empty seats located next to Morgan, who was seated at the head of the table.

  “I can’t thank the two of you enough for what you did for this country,” Morgan said. “If my uncle knew what you did, he’d be proud of you.”

  “He’s probably chewing on a cigar right now and fishing,” Hawk said. “I doubt he even knows how closely we came to war.”

  “It’s just as well that he didn’t,” Alex added. “If he thought the world was this tenuous, he’d come out of retirement and kick you out of your chair, Morgan.”

  Morgan offered a thin smile. “He’d have a tough time moving me from here.”

  Hawk was certain that she meant that too. Magnum was her show, her fingerprints all over it. The thought of J.D. Blunt returning to his post was enough to make Morgan’s good-natured self vanish, if only for a moment.

  Morgan clasped her fingers together, resting them on the table in front of her. “I’d like to start off by saying that I’m grateful for every single one of you today. This was a total team effort that required us all to be at the top of our games in order to succeed. Dr. Z’s inventions, Mia’s hacking skills, Big Earv’s bravery in piloting a boat into enemy waters with no way out, Alex’s help with another semi-related project, and of course Hawk’s ability to adapt on the fly and stop an imminent attack on the U.S. that would’ve undoubtedly killed hundreds of thousands of innocent Americans. Whether you were analyzing data, developing operational tools, or doing the heavy lifting out in the field, you all contributed to Magnum’s success.”

  “Only we didn’t get Eddie Tyson home,” Hawk said. “That was the primary objective.”

  “But it doesn’t matter,” Morgan said. “The fact that we prevented a war should be good enough for you, Hawk.”

  He sighed. “It is, but I can’t stop thinking about Tyson and his young son who needs him. He’s stuck in a North Korean prison somewhere, being treated like garbage. We can’t just leave him there. If it hadn’t been for him, we’d likely already be at war.”

  “We can’t just go into North Korea on a reconnaissance mission,” Morgan said. “We have to get word from someone about where he might be before I authorize an extraction team.”

  Hawk slapped the table with an open palm. “It shouldn’t be that way. We can’t treat people who’ve sacrificed everything for their country like this.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened as she cocked her head to one side. “We’ll go back for him when we can. In the meantime, we’ve got plenty of other unresolved issues going on here.”

  “I’d say everything looks resolved to me,” Big Earv said with a chuckle. “North Korea is blaming Russia for sabotaging their warheads, which you have to admit was hilarious when one of them changed course and took out an entire aircraft carrier.”

  Mia giggled. “That was me.”

  “And using a device I designed,” Dr. Z said with a grin.

  The two bumped fists as Big Earv continued.

  “Apparently, all those Navy SEALs that Hawk ran into were wearing FSB gear and had fake Russian names and passports.”

  Mia shifted in her chair as she started typing on her laptop. “Hawk, are you sure they were Navy SEALs?”

  Hawk nodded. “Sure as I’m sitting here. The Reaper has too many unique tattoos. And I ought to know since I stared at them half the night during our training. He slept on the bunk next to me and snored louder than a freight train. Now that I think back about it, it’s truly amazing I ever got any sleep around that man.”

  “Well, if you’re that sure, would you be willing to visit him?” Mia said.

  The Magnum team stared at Mia in disbelief.

  “You found him?” Morgan asked.

  Mia nodded and smiled. “And he’s not that far away either.”

  “Let’s go get him,” Hawk said.

  Alex glanced at him. “You’re not in any condition to go bring the Reaper in.”

  “I don’t have to do it by myself. Besides,” he said, shirking off the sling, “this thing’s just for show anyway.”

  “Excellent,” Morgan said. “Hawk, Big Earv—I need the two of you to put together an operational plan and have it on my desk by the end of the day.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk said.

  “We’ll handle it, ma’am,” Big Earv said with a wink.

  As the team started to file out of the room, Morgan remained in her seat. She grabbed Hawk’s arm and told him and Alex to remain behind. She repeated the order to Mia.

  When only the four of them remained, Morgan stood. “I think we all know how unnerving it is that someone leaked information about our operation to someone that paid a rogue team of mercenaries to kill their own countrymen. I don’t know who’s behind this, but I want you guys to figure it out for me. Hawk, you’ve got an expansive knowledge of potential suspects. Mia, you ha
ve the technical skills to trace a digital leak. And Alex, you’ve got the kind of analyst skills that, quite frankly, are missing at this organization. I think the three of you can figure this out on your own. Agree?”

  They all nodded.

  “If you decide to loop anyone else in on your investigation, please notify me,” Morgan said. “That’s all.”

  “We won’t let you down,” Hawk said.

  “I know you won’t,” she said, patting Hawk on his wounded arm before leaving the room.

  Mia sighed and shook her head. “As if things weren’t stressful enough already …”

  “Well, why don’t you both join the field team? Getting out might do you both some good.”

  Alex’s face lit up. “My aunt and uncle can handle John Daniel for a few extra days.”

  “That works for me,” Mia said. “I’ll also send you an idea I have.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I think I know how we can draw him out.”

  “We?” Hawk asked. “So you think you’re fit for field duty again? As I recall, it’s been a while.”

  Mia grinned. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I wouldn’t miss a trip to the Dominican for the world.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

  FROM A SECOND-STORY balcony, Hawk peered through a pair of high-tech sunglasses Dr. Z had designed, scanning the poolside at the Zoetry Agua resort on the water. Aside from blocking UV rays and providing a darkened field of vision, Dr. Z’s patented Sunglazzes enabled Hawk to run facial recognition searches on anyone in his line of sight. All he had to do was look straight-on at a person. Then the micro-processors embedded in the frames would analyze the person’s face and alert Hawk if they were in the database. The technology was especially helpful when trying to identify someone who was good at changing their look to hide in plain sight.

  Near the south end of the pool, a man jammed on his guitar joined by the rest of his steel drum band. A group of bikini-clad women swayed to the music, careful not to spill their margaritas. Hawk’s glasses didn’t identify anyone among the group in the database. He checked a few people relaxing on the steps leading into the water. Still nothing.

  “Are you sure he’s here?” Hawk asked into the coms.

  “I got confirmation a half-hour ago when he showed up on the hotel’s security feed,” Mia said. “He’s here all right.”

  “Maybe he’s in his room,” Hawk suggested.

  “No, he was just leaving his room when he was spotted on camera. The image was black and white, but he appeared to be in a solid-colored bathing suit, which I would guess is a bright color.”

  “So, what am I looking for?” Hawk asked. “A neon green or bright orange trunks?”

  “Something like that,” Mia said.

  “You’re going to have to walk down there,” Mia said. “It’s the only way.”

  “Why don’t we give Dr. Gizmo’s gadget to Alex?” Hawk asked. “I’m sure she will turn enough heads to get men to look at her straight on.”

  “I can’t blow my cover,” Alex chimed in on the coms. “I need to remain out of sight until the operation begins.”

  “Oh, Alex, I didn’t know you were listening in,” Hawk said.

  Alex chuckled. “Now, you’re just trying to score brownie points.”

  “Either way, you’ve gotta admit that Hawk’s smooth,” Mia said.

  “Yeah, I guess he’s all right,” Alex said. “I might keep him.”

  “Just put your disguise on and go down there,” Mia said. “I want full confirmation that he’s still on site before we commence.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk said.

  He ambled into the closet and put on a faded t-shirt and flip-flops. Hawk tucked a sun hat low across his brow and shuffled downstairs. After wandering around for a few minutes, he bought a drink from the Tiki hut near the water and strolled casually around the pool. He searched for someone wearing a pair of brightly-colored trunks, but none of them even came close to matching the Reaper’s physique. His bulging biceps and thick neck would make it almost impossible to hide for very long, but Hawk struggled to identify the man.

  After fifteen minutes, Hawk spotted a man sprawled out on a lounge chair near the band. He was lying on his back, his hat strategically positioned over his face and his arms crossed over his midsection. He wore a pair of neon green board shorts.

  “I think I see him,” Hawk said, his lips moving imperceptibly.

  “What do Dr. Z’s Sunglazzes say?” Mia asked.

  “I can’t confirm anything because he won’t take that damn hat off his face,” Hawk said. “And I have no idea how long he’s going to remain in that position.”

  “Just keep watching him,” Mia said.

  “Or maybe buy him a drink and have it sent over,” Alex suggested.

  “See, this is why you need to be down here instead of me,” Hawk said.

  Hawk asked a woman if she’d buy a drink and have it sent over to the man he suspected was the Reaper. He handed her a fifty-dollar bill, telling her she could keep the change. She readily agreed.

  “If you want to impress him, send him a Long Island iced tea,” Hawk said. “It’s his favorite.”

  The woman smiled and walked over to the bar to order. A couple of minutes later, the Reaper sat up, curious about why a poolside server was giving him a drink. With his face visible, Hawk’s glasses confirmed the Reaper’s identity.

  “It’s a match,” Hawk said. “That’s him.”

  “Good,” Mia said. “Hawk, fall back so we can prepare for the next phase of the operation.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk said before returning to his hotel room.

  * * *

  DOUG MITCHELL CLOSED his eyes, soaking in the warm sunshine. Visiting North Korea and Russia in the winter chilled him to the bone, and he needed to thaw out. He drained the last bit of his Long Island iced tea, resisting his curiosity to find out who sent him the drink. As a mercenary, he didn’t have time for distractions like relationships. From the moment he joined the Navy SEALs, he decided that his lifestyle wouldn’t be conducive to any long-term relationship, especially since it wouldn’t be fair to whoever he was involved with.

  He ran his fingers across the tattoo spanning the width of his collarbones. “Freedom cannot be bestowed—it must be achieved” read the tattooed message overlaid on a colorful American eagle. He was drunk and considered himself naive when he entered the tattoo parlor at age 18 to get the artwork inscribed. It served as a reminder to him of his past. Years of battle had jaded him. He no longer believed the words on his chest, nor did he care much for the idea of patriotism. The only person he was loyal to was himself.

  Glancing at his forearm, he smiled as he saw the tattoo of the Grim Reaper. He once completed seven successful assassination missions in a three-month span, hitting one target right between the eyes from more than a thousand meters away on a blustery day. In a matter of days, Mitchell’s exploits became legendary within the SEALs, which was almost unprecedented. As elite soldiers, rarely were they impressed with anything anyone else did. But Mitchell achieved god-like status, which also earned him the Reaper nickname.

  He visited the Zoetry Agua so often that he could get a room whenever he wanted, even if the resort was listed as full. Whenever he completed his latest assignment, he’d retreat to the Caribbean. He felt safe there. And despite his nomadic existence, it felt like home, too.

  Mitchell felt free, though he knew that wasn’t entirely the case. If he turned down an assignment, there would be questions. And questions were never a good thing, especially from the people he was working for.

  His phone buzzed with a text message, alerting him to the arrival of an urgent email.

  He recognized the number and navigated on his cell phone to his email.

  “On your last mission, you were exposed to a new strand of the Kabalo virus. Please call back for instructions on how to proceed.”

  Mitchell c
ursed under his breath as he got up. He’d rather suffer a bullet wound than get the Kabalo virus, though he wasn’t fond of needles either. He ordered another drink on his way back to his room, draining it before reached the door. After he collapsed into the chair in the corner, he dialed the number.

  * * *

  IN THE WEEK following Hawk’s encounter with Reaper in Sonbong, Mia had hacked into his cell phone and combed through voice messages. She worked with Dr. Z to tweak a voice simulator for Reaper’s contact. And she also placed malware on his phone that, when activated, would direct outgoing calls to the number of her choosing.

  When Mia’s phone rang, she took a deep breath and then initiated the voice simulator.

  “This is control,” she said after answering. “Please identify yourself.”

  Reaper recited a string of numbers.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now, what can I help you with today?”

  “I received an email to contact you about what to do next following my exposure to the Kabalo virus.”

  “Of course. Thank you for responding so quickly. Based on the length of your exposure, you need to receive treatment immediately.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You could suffer a severe illness or even death.”

  “It’d be one helluva way for me to go,” Reaper said with a chuckle. “I get pinned down in tight spots all over the world facing enormous amounts of fire power, battling some of the most well-trained soldiers in various militaries, and it’s a stupid little bug I can’t see that gets me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. We very much value you in our organization, so we’ve deployed a medical team to your location to administer your treatment. Do you have a pen handy?”

  “Give me a second,” Reaper said, the line going silent for a brief moment. “All right lay it on me.”

  Mia read off the address for the clinic before continuing. “Report to that location in one hour to receive your treatment. Use the passcode ‘freedom isn’t free’ to gain entry. Any other questions?”