Deep Cover (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 2) Page 10

Hawk nodded. “Do you have need of an exporter?”

  “My method for exporting some of our precious cargo out of Sierra Leone has dried up, and I need an alternative way to get some product out of the country.”

  “Where would I be moving this product? I’m not licensed everywhere.”

  “I have some clients in the Middle East. Their shipments call for extreme discretion, if you understand what I’m saying.”

  Hawk nodded. If he was going to portray himself as a discreet exporter, he didn’t need to ask any more questions.

  “I can probably help you.”

  Demby slapped him on the back. “You seem like a man I can trust.”

  “Excellent. I’m planning on being around for a few more days. Is this something we can handle while I’m still here?”

  “Most certainly. Perhaps tomorrow night we can meet to discuss how you can be of service to me.”

  “I’ll be back from my hunting excursion then, so that will be perfect. I’ll await your call. You know where I’m staying.”

  Demby shook Hawk’s hand. “I can see we’re going to get along just fine, Mr. Martin.”

  ***

  BACK IN HIS ROOM, Hawk called Alex to tell her the good news and give her a full update on what had transpired.

  “So, Demby took the bait?” she asked, almost matter of factly.

  “Hook, line, and sinker.”

  “Well, that went well.”

  “It’s not over yet. I’m still in the dark about the weapons.”

  “I’m sure they’ll turn up if they’re there.”

  Hawk glanced at his watch and then outside at the star-filled sky. “Have you found out anything else about my father?”

  “Nothing on him, but I’ve learned a few other things. When you get back, we need to talk.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Good luck, and stay in your legend.”

  Hawk lingered by the window for a moment, enjoying the view. With relatively few streetlights, the stars seemed to blanket the sky.

  While he was caught up admiring the sparkling constellations overhead, Hawk didn’t see the man crouching beneath his window slip off into the nearby forest.

  CHAPTER 26

  THE SUN HAD BARELY PEEKED above the horizon, but Demby had assembled every Sefadu Holdings employee for an urgent meeting just outside his office. He squinted as he glanced eastward, contemplating his next few words.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience of the early start today, but I felt like I must say something before the incident two days ago begins to endanger our operation,” he said as he walked around the assembled group of men. “I was under a lot of stress the other day when the mine collapsed. I wasn’t acting in my right mind—and for that, I apologize. But I want to make it exceedingly clear to everyone here that I care deeply about each and every one of you. I am grateful that no one was crushed and killed in the collapse and that we can move forward. For now, we will be suspending the conversion process of our open-pit mines using block caving. There will come a day when we will venture back into those areas and mine them again. But that day is not now, nor in the immediate future.”

  He turned and looked down upon the rubble still sprawled out across the bottom of the open-pit mine.

  “We must continue to keep safety as our priority, but also remember that production is of utmost importance. We must be safe and alive to fulfill our obligations. But if we don’t fulfill our obligations, it doesn’t matter how safe and alive we are; we’ll all be out of a job. Is that understood?”

  A few men mumbled in the affirmative.

  “I can’t hear you,” Demby shouted.

  “Yes, sir,” the men responded.

  “I must also remind you that if news of this collapse begins to circulate, we may all lose our jobs. Some government official may want to inspect what we’re doing. Now, I suppose you all like being paid. Am I right?”

  The men nodded.

  “So, can I trust you to keep what happened here a secret between you and your families? No press, no government intrusions?”

  The men all nodded again.

  “Good, now let’s get to work.”

  The men dispersed to their stations and began work for the day. Demby smiled as he watched the men scurry about in preparation for their tasks. Scanning the grounds, he caught Ibrahim’s eye and gestured for him to come over.

  “What is it, boss?”

  “There’s been a change of plans,” Demby said. “Dr. Ackerman and I came to an understanding, and we’re going to need to export Al Hasib’s diamonds through other means.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Demby stroked his chin. “Find out what you can about our new friend, Oliver Martin, the Kiwi exporter. I think he will be our best option at this point. He seems capable and willing—two traits I find highly desirable.”

  “Do you think he’ll be a new permanent answer to our problem?”

  Demby shrugged. “I see him more as a temporary solution at best, if you know what I mean.”

  He trudged up the stairs to his office and placed a call to a Mr. Martin.

  CHAPTER 27

  IF THERE WAS A HEAVEN ON EARTH, Senator Blunt suspected it would be located somewhere near Carrizo Springs, Texas. Blunt adored Hog Heaven, his sprawling ranch nestled deep in the southwest Texas woods less than an hour away from the Mexican border. His hunting lodge was modest by Texas standards, but at five thousand square feet with fifteen bedrooms, it could host a substantial party.

  However, for his impromptu trip back, Blunt wasn’t interested in seeing every bed filled for a roaring weekend of fun. And hunting was the last thing on his mind. This time, he went to Hog Heaven for privacy, the kind of extreme privacy that wasn’t available anywhere in D.C.

  An elderly gentleman meandered through the hallway and stared at the pictures on the wall of statesmen, athletes, and various other celebrities.

  “Who’s this guy?” the man asked Blunt.

  Blunt took a sip of his coffee and shuffled out of the kitchen toward his guest. A wide smile broke across his face. “That’s Nolan Ryan, the greatest pitcher to ever come out of Texas.”

  “What sport is that? Baseball?” the man asked. His question betrayed his nationality almost as much as his English accent.

  “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 miss
ions, 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 no
t 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.”