“What happened to the boy?”
“They dragged him back into the circle and threw more rocks at him.”
Samuels, who’d taken the seat in front of Hawk, jumped into the conversation. “Did you try to find a police officer? I would’ve reported him to the authorities.”
“That’s the thing. The man who was dragging him down the street was a policeman. It was one of the most shameful things I ever witnessed.” Hawk took a deep breath before continuing. “And when they finally stopped throwing stones at the kid, everyone dispersed. A couple of men hustled in and carried the kid away.”
Alex squeezed Hawk’s hand. “I don’t know how you could stand to watch that.”
“I couldn’t. It was grotesque. Though I’ve tried many times, I can’t wipe those images from my mind. Those cries, those screams—they stick with you. It might have been just a fun little exercise for those boys chucking rocks at a helpless kid, but it traumatized him. I’m sure a day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t still think about it, if he’s even still alive. I do wish I could’ve done more, but I was just a scared outsider.”
“At least you tried something,” Alex said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I been in that situation, though you hardly ever see anything like that when you grow up virtually alone out in the country.”
The trio was all so engrossed in the conversation that they barely noticed the tires touching down as the plane landed.
“Never again though,” Hawk said. “I swore I’d never abandon someone like that again, no matter what.”
They all stood and collected their gear. Just as they were about to step off the private jet, Blunt called Hawk.
“What is it?” Hawk asked.
“There is an all-out manhunt for the three of you,” Blunt said. “You need to lay low.”
“How the hell are we supposed to get out of the airport? If they’re searching for us as actively as you’re suggesting, this isn’t a good place for us to be. There’s going to be an inspection.”
“I know. It won’t be easy, but I’m sure you’ll think of something. In the meantime, stay in touch. I might have another assignment for the three of you.”
“Really? You want us to stay low to avoid detection, but then you want us to be ready to get back out there? I think you need to consider our well-being and future more before whipping us back and forth on your whims.”
“Now look, Hawk. Don’t question whether I’ve got your best in mind when I’m asking you to do these things. If I thought it would put you in danger—or if it wasn’t absolutely necessary for you to handle a situation—I wouldn’t consider it. The last thing I want is you in custody, believe me.”
“I believe you, but it’s getting more difficult with these directives that are pushing and pulling us in multiple directions. So, which is it going to be? Because it’d probably be easier for us to refuel and jump back on the plane.”
“Lay low for now at the new safe house,” Blunt said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Hawk hung up and let out a string of expletives underneath his breath.
“I know that face,” Alex said. “What does Blunt want us to do now?”
“Nothing for now, but he did want to let us know that every law enforcement agency in America is searching for us.”
“Wonderful,” Alex said.
“Why don’t we just turn ourselves in and straighten out this whole little misunderstanding?” Samuels chimed in.
“You,” Hawk said, pointing at Samuels. “Be quiet. Forget your stupid manual, and listen to me. It’s the only way the three of us are going to stay alive and avoid prison. In the meantime, I think I know a way to get us out of here. Stay right here.”
Hawk hustled across the hangar and returned five minutes later carrying a bag stuffed full of clothes.
“Here,” he said, “put on these uniforms.”
Samuels held up one of the blue outfits. “This is what United flight attendants have to wear?”
Hawk nodded. “It’s not a fashion statement. It’s simply a way out of here, understand?”
The trio quickly put on the attire and caught a ride to the checkpoint on a golf cart. Riding in silence, Hawk contemplated how he would react if the guard at the gate gave them any trouble. He considered slipping behind the man and putting him in a sleep hold, though he wasn’t sure that would sufficiently keep the man out long enough to build a sufficient head start to disappear. With every stretch of road around Washington under surveillance, shaking a tail wouldn’t be a simple exercise. But it would be a necessary one. And Hawk needed all the time he could buy if it came to that.
Once the golf cart came to a halt, the three dismounted and thanked the driver. He nodded and drove off.
“Follow my lead,” Hawk said. “Do just what I do.”
He approached the gate and was met at a kiosk by a security guard.
“Afternoon, officer,” Hawk said.
The man eyed Hawk closely. “Just where exactly do you think you’re going?”
Hawk froze and clenched his fists.
CHAPTER 8
Kabul, Afghanistan
KARIF FAZIL ENJOYED the feeling of being born again. The burden of being the target of every western country’s terrorist hunt had weighed on him. But the time away to reinvent himself had been necessary, not only to tweak his appearance in an effort to avoid facial recognition software, but also to regain his sanity. Wreaking havoc on the free world wasn’t for the fainthearted, but even the most battle-tested rebel needed to rest and regroup.
If he was honest, he planned on remaining
