Point of Impact (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 3) Read online

  Laman would know soon enough if that was an accurate assessment or simply the empty promises of a desperate recruiter from back home. He hoped it was the former. If not, he was about to have a disaster on his hands—and Karif Fazil would not be forgiving.

  ***

  MAHMOD TOOK A BREAK, easing onto the covered deck just outside the back door so he could smoke. Habeeb, who’d followed Mahmod outside, snatched the pack of cigarettes from his hand before crumpling them up and tossing them over the fence into the small yard of the house behind them.

  “What are you doing?” Mahmod said, staring wide-eyed at Habeeb. “Laman won’t let me leave to go get any more cigarettes. That’s all I have until this mission is over.”

  Habeeb wagged his finger at Mahmod. “It’s all you had. You can thank me later when you live a long and prosperous life with plenty of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.”

  Mahmod seethed, glaring at his friend. “This is not some game, Habeeb. And there are no guarantees. I may never see my family again—and you either. We’ll both be fortunate, knowing we’re living in the favor of Allah if we emerge from this mission without dying.”

  “Did you think it would end any other way?” Habeeb asked.

  Mahmod sat down and dug out a crinkled photograph of him with his family. He studied it for a few moments before cramming it back into his pocket.

  Habeeb broke into a nervous laughter. “Oh, no. You thought this was your chance to get out of the country, your chance to wage Jihad on America. Perhaps you also volunteered to avoid your responsibilities back home.”

  “Enough,” Mahmod hissed. “My reasons for being here are pure, no matter what you say. For reasons you likely will never understand, there’s nothing wrong with harboring regret for my decision. I love my family dearly—and it’s why I did this but also why I regret it.”

  Habeeb shook his head while he paced around the deck.

  “Do you say this because I don’t have a family?”

  Mahmod eyed Habeeb closely. “I say this because it is true—and you will likely never have a family.”

  “My virgins await,” Habeeb said with a wry grin.

  “Until you hold a baby in your arms and gaze into its eyes knowing that it’s a part of you, you’ll never understand. Seventy-two virgins may await, but I can’t imagine it being better than that one moment where you realize you just made something, where you just made another human being.”

  Habeeb grunted. “Love is not granted to a precious few in sacred moments. It’s something we experience deeply everyday through our sacrifice, through our friendships, through our family.” He took Mahmod’s face in his hands. “We are family, Mahmod.”

  “All the reason more why I stand here with mixed emotions, half regretting that I agreed to join this mission.”

  “We won’t fail.”

  Mahmod threw his head back, staring skyward. “But what if we do?” He paused. “If we do, everything we did would be for nothing.”

  Habeeb nodded knowingly. “Then let’s not fail.”

  CHAPTER 9

  ALEX STEPPED OUT onto the balcony adjacent to her bedroom at The Fairmont San Francisco. The early morning sun glistened off the water, twinkling as she studied the bay. She took in the mountains lurching above the Golden Gate Bridge and slowly moved inland, stopping briefly to admire Alcatraz. She’d always enjoyed living on the east coast, but she experienced a twinge of jealousy for those people living on the hillsides that appeared to connect seamlessly with the water.

  I could get into this.

  A knock at her door interrupted her momentary daydream. She smiled and greeted a member of the hotel staff, who pushed a cart into the room. Slipping the young man a twenty spot, she closed the door behind him and secured it with both the deadbolt and chain-link lock.

  Carrying her breakfast out onto the balcony, she sank into a chair and devoured her food. She concluded that while the view was heavenly, the meal didn’t match up with Cookie’s culinary delights from The Golden Egg.

  Once she finished eating, she retreated inside and opened up her laptop. She called Hawk on her comlink.

  “Rise and shine,” Hawk said. “What took you so long?”

  “I was admiring paradise.”

  “You might think otherwise when everything starts shaking while you sit atop your perch,” he scoffed.

  “Hmmm. Who put you in such a foul mood this morning?”

  “Come join me in this stakeout, and I’ll show you why.”

  “I’m fine atop my perch, thank you very much.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Besides, we’ve got other issues to talk about once you catch me up to speed on what’s going on.”

  Hawk briefed her on what he’d observed so far and what he planned to do about it, which was to sit and wait it out.

  “Makes you long for the days of Blunt, doesn’t it?”

  He sighed and remained silent for a moment.

  “Hawk? Hawk? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here, but there’s something you need to know, something I can’t believe General Johnson didn’t tell you himself.”

  “Go on.”

  “Blunt’s not dead, Alex. He’s still very much alive and well.”

  “What the . . . How?”

  “He faked his death and—”

  “And he fooled even you?”

  “I wasn’t expecting anything like that to happen, so my guard was down, so to speak. I never thought he’d pull something like this on me. But he had to.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t want to get into it right now, but I’ll tell you later. I promise.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “Not half as crazy as what happened to you yesterday with Searchlight trying to recruit you.”

  Alex took a deep breath. “That’s the real reason I’m off to a slow start. I spent half the night trying to figure out how this all happened and what’s really going on. I can hardly make heads or tails of it.”

  “There are forces at work that we may never understand.”

  Alex stood up and started to pace around her room. “And you’re just going to be satisfied with that explanation.”

  “Of course not, but it’s not like I can jump on the Internet and dig up answers from some website. This is the world of espionage, remember? Things take time.”

  “I’m not sure I’m willing to spend the time necessary to figure this whole thing out. I want to know what I’m a part of, if anything. And who’s behind it all, if anyone? Doesn’t that bother you just a little bit?”

  “It pisses me off, but I can’t let anyone know it. If I ever intend to sort it out, I must play the long game. I must understand where everyone’s allegiances lie before I can even determine my own.”

  Frustrated by Hawk’s lack of urgency, Alex decided to take another tact, hopefully one that would ignite him to push beyond his Zen approach and get serious about getting some answers.

  “Hawk, I did some research last night, and I’ve got to tell you something.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’ve got a feeling that Jessica Thornton is still alive.”

  Silence, the uncomfortable kind. Alex waited for a reasonable amount of time for Hawk to digest the bomb she’d just dropped before asking him if he’d been listening.

  “Hawk? Hawk? Are you still there?”

  More silence.

  “Hawk, talk to me. What’s going on?”

  Finally, he responded, “As much as I’d love to delve into this topic of conversation right now, I can’t. There’s something going on down the street—and I’ve got bigger problems than Searchlight and Jessica at the moment.”

  “What’s going on?” Alex asked.

  “Looks I’m about to get caught in an FBI raid.”

  CHAPTER 10

  HAWK WATCHED AS AN FBI SWAT TEAM surrounded the house. He wanted to intervene somehow, anything to attract the FBI agents’ attention a
way from their task. But he realized such an action would only serve to complicate his mission. All the intel he had was about to vanish beneath the guise of an otherwise successful sting operation on a human trafficking ring.

  Hawk sighed and slumped in his seat. The operatives who were now hunkered down close against the house were on a noble mission, and the women freed would be most grateful—that much he understood and knew. Yet he compared the numbers in his head: a few dozen girls versus an entire city or more. Thousands upon thousands of families would be ripped apart once Al Hasib employed its barbaric tactics. If the feds arrested Laman and his team, Hawk would be left with nothing to go on.

  Grabbing a pad and hat from the backseat, Hawk tugged the headwear down to cover his face. He flung his door open and walked closer to the action. Within seconds, two agents utilized a battering ram to force open the front door. Several other agents spilled in through the front door, weapons raised as they moved.

  Hawk froze, taking in the scene from a safe distance yet close enough to make out the faces of the scared girls. One by one, they were led gently out of the house and into a waiting wagon where they were given bottled water and blankets.

  After observing for a few minutes, Hawk decided to press his luck and move closer. He didn’t get very far before he felt a hand press hard against his chest.

  “No, sir,” an agent said, applying enough pressure that Hawk decided to stop. “We’re in the middle of a raid. You stay right here.”

  Hawk refused to make eye contact with the man, instead gazing past him at the bustling activity around the house.

  Holding up his notepad, Hawk attempted to edge closer. “I’m with The Chronicle.”

  The agent held firm, exerting more pressure on Hawk, who only stopped again out of courtesy for the law enforcement officer simply doing his job.

  “I don’t care if you’re with the President of the United States, you aren’t taking another step.”

  Hawk watched for another few moments.

  “You mind telling me what the FBI is doing conducting a raid here?”

  “Only if you tell me how you knew we were here,” the agent shot back.

  “I live on this street and was about to leave for work.”

  The agent chuckled. “And I’m the tooth fairy. Go peddle your lies elsewhere because I’m not buying it.”

  Hawk finally looked down at the man. “I always thought the tooth fairy would be far more congenial.”

  The agent rammed the butt of his rifle into Hawk’s chest. “I think it’s time you leave the premises.”

  Hawk reluctantly turned and started to walk back up the street, craning his neck to see what was happening. The agents had stopped marching out the trafficking victims and instead had a man in custody. They shoved him around as he went stumbling down the steps of the house.

  Thinking quickly, Hawk held up his camera as if he were videoing the raid. “You can’t do that,” he shouted.

  “We can do whatever we want to Theo Brown. That scum has had it coming for a long time. Every reporter in the Bay Area knows that—even you.”

  Hawk feigned as if he were taking notes.

  Well, Theo Brown, looks like we’re going to become fast acquaintances.

  CHAPTER 11

  LAMAN GLANCED AT HIS PHONE as it buzzed with a text from his wife, a weekly occurrence every Friday morning. His ten-month-old son just took his first steps, and his wife sent him a video of it. Laman smiled as he watched his boy toddle across the floor before flopping down. With the flick of a button, Laman turned his phone off and shoved it back into his pocket, the video serving as an ever-present reminder of why he was doing what he was doing.

  My son is going to live in a world ruled by men Allah has ordained, not infidels.

  Laman surveyed the men around the table and took a deep breath before convening the meeting.

  “Over the past few days, you’ve all been busy at work preparing for an assignment, the details of which have been hidden from you—until now.”

  Several of the men straightened up in their chairs, sitting at attention. Laman could tell they were eagerly awaiting his next words.

  “While Al Hasib has made many advances to face the unlawful and ruthless attacks of the infidels, we’ve never taken it to their own land like they have to ours. The symbolic attacks on The World Trade Center will be nothing compared to what we will do if we successfully complete this mission.”

  Laman watched as the men’s faces lit up with 100-watt smiles.

  “That's right,” he continued. “The future of Al Hasib’s operations here in the United States rests in your ability to fulfill the task we’re about to ask you to do.”

  He started to pace around the room.

  “For those of you who have been working on the research portion of this mission, you’re very well acquainted with a Mr. Thomas Colton. But for the rest of you, let me fill you in. Mr. Colton is the preeminent weapons manufacturer in the world. We have intelligence reports surrounding a new prototype he’s developed. In the wrong hands, this weapon would be able to wipe out entire communities from a distance of five miles. But in our hands, we’d be able to send these infidels back to the Stone Age.”

  He clapped his hands, rubbing them together.

  “We’d be able to turn this country into a parking lot.”

  More smiles spread across the faces of the men.

  Laman pointed at them as he continued, “I can tell that each and every one of you understands the enormous weight of this assignment. It’s so important that Al Hasib’s top agent, Talib Al-Asadi. Talib will facilitate the transfer of the weapon’s schematics for Mr. Colton. But before we can do anything else, we must first apprehend Mr. Colton—and this plan is going to require one of you to make an extreme sacrifice.”

  Several of the men shifted in their seats, catching Laman’s eye.

  “Now that theoretical concepts are turning into concrete realities, I sense some of you might be afraid. But we cannot be governed by our fear, for it is our faith that drives us. The very thing that threatens our mission is the antithesis of why we are here.”

  Laman slammed both fists on the table.

  “We will not cower to the American imperialists who seek to destroy us. We will not let them win. No, we will make them wish they’d never even heard of us, much less set the boot of one warrior in our precious homeland. And we won’t rest until an entire nation has paid.”

  The men started to nod again, almost forgetting that one of them was going to be asked to die for the cause.

  “Mahmod, Habeeb,” Laman said as he gestured in an upward motion with his right hand, “please rise.”

  Both men stood up.

  “One of you lucky men will have the honor of wearing a bomb vest that will ensure that our mission will result in success. We will cast lots for this distinguished honor. The winner will don the vest. Are you ready?”

  Both men nodded, each retrieving a die from Laman’s outstretched hand.

  Habeeb rolled first with a five turning up.

  “Well done,” Laman said. “The odds are in your favor.”

  Mahmod exhaled and tossed his die onto the table. Once the die stopped rolling, every man in the room rose out of their seats to see the result of the toss. It was a six.

  Laman turned toward Mahmod, whose face turned white. “Do not fear, my friend, for you will be immortalized and rewarded—as Muhammad stated in the Hadith—with seventy-two virgins. You will be leaving the turmoil of this life for paradise with plenty of beautiful women to keep you company.

  Mahmod smiled faintly and nodded.

  “We will discuss details later, but for now we can move forward with our tactical planning. You are all dismissed to return to your research.”

  ***

  MAHMOD WAITED UNTIL LAMAN exited the room before retreating downstairs. Entering the bunk room, Mahmod crashed onto his bottom bunk and closed his eyes. He’d always considered himself committed to the cause,
a faithful follower of the teachings of Muhammad. But no longer was his faith a set of ideals to be admired and practiced in the comfortable environment of like-minded people. No, his faith was now a manifesto that required an enormous sacrifice. Mahmod had to take the next step from little more than an admirer of Muhammad to a true believer.

  Mahmod wasn’t sure he had the faith to move forward.

  The door to the bunk room creaked open, and Mahmod snapped his head in that direction.

  Habeeb stood at the doorway, watching Mahmod. Quickly closing the door, Habeeb strode across the floor toward Mahmod’s bunk before sitting down at the foot of the bed.

  “This is where our faith becomes real, forged in the fire,” Habeeb said.

  Mahmod sat up. “I want to believe, but I’m having a hard time with the fact that I must orphan my children and widow my wife.”

  “You knew this might happen when you signed up to join Al Hasib.”

  “There's a difference between a possibility and a reality. Most people know there’s a possibility they could die in a car accident each time they travel in a vehicle, but they ignore it and go on with their lives. However, for some of those people, that possibility turns into tragedy—not just for them but also for their families.”

  “Yet it stops no one from getting into a car. And it shouldn’t stop you from living like you truly believe the faith we hold so dearly.”

  A tear trickled down Mahmod’s face. “I don’t want to die. I have so much to live for. I never thought I would be the one selected to do this.”

  “You have much to live for, but you have even more to die for,” Habeeb said. “Your children may miss you, but they will be taken care of. And because of your sacrifice, many more children will have a bright future. This is what Allah created you to do. He willed it when the die was cast.”

  Mahmod nodded and wiped away another streaking tear. He wanted to agree with Habeeb, but he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.