The truck ripped through an access arm and rumbled over a spike strip. With the tires wobbling, Fazil held the steering wheel steady as he neared his intended target. Guards scrambling outside fired off bullets that whizzed past the truck and peppered the windshield. Hunching low in the cab, Fazil dragged a cinder block onto the accelerator and prepared to make his escape by scooting to the passenger side.
He counted down as he neared one of the towers.
Three . . . two . . . one . . .
He swung the passenger door open and dove head first onto the ground. Flailing about for twenty meters, he finally came to a stop, just in time to see his truck slam into a tower and set off a fiery explosion that spewed oil into the air.
Fazil clambered to his feet and hustled toward the exit. Security personnel were too busy gawking at the flaming refinery to even notice the terrorist stealthily escaping through the main gate. One of Fazil’s men was waiting for his boss less than a hundred meters from the entrance. Fazil hopped inside.
“Let’s go,” Fazil said.
The vehicle left without a single Verge security SUV following in pursuit.
“Take that, Brady Hawk!” Fazil said before breaking into loud, nervous laughter.
CHAPTER 33
Paris, France
BY THE TIME HAWK SAW the escape vehicle, sirens were already blaring in the distance. He managed to extend the gap between himself from the two officers in pursuit, but that wasn’t going to stop them. If they caught up with Hawk and his team, French officials would quickly learn that they were the same group accused of the Stuttgart Massacre, the moniker coined by the European press.
“You two should go ahead and let me sort this out on my own,” Hawk said over his com as he ran.
“We’re a team,” Alex said. “We’re sticking together.”
“Leaving you behind would go against protocol,” Samuels said.
“You and that damn protocol,” Hawk said. “It’s going to get you killed one day.”
“Today, it’s saving your ass,” Samuels fired back. “Now hurry up.”
Hawk tried to suck in more air as he pumped his arms and raced toward Alex and Samuels. With legs burning and chest aching, Hawk powered on, ignoring the pain. Less than a minute later, he approached the SUV.
“Samuels, you better not be in the driver’s seat,” Hawk said.
“She’s all yours,” Samuels said. “Getting in the backseat now.”
Hawk slipped behind the wheel and already had his foot on the accelerator before the door was shut. The engine whined and roared as they flew out of the parking lot.
“You know,” Hawk said, “I knew this was a stupid idea.”
Alex huffed a soft laugh through her nose. “That’s rich coming from you. Have you kept track of all your stupid ideas? Because I have, and you’ve acted on at least two dozen of them.”
Hawk shook his head slowly. “One man’s stupid idea is another man’s genius.”
“Well, we found out the truth, didn’t we?” Samuels chimed in.
“It would’ve eventually come out,” Hawk said, checking his rearview mirror.
“But by then, Petrov would’ve had a huge head start and may have disappeared,” Samuels argued. “Charles de Gaulle has temporarily halted all departures, so at least we know she’s still in the city.”
“A lot of good that’s going to do us if we’re sitting in a Paris jail somewhere.”
Hawk turned a corner and saw several police cars heading toward them about 400 meters down the road.
“I’m gonna need some help navigating here, Alex,” Hawk said.
She typed furiously on her laptop. “Take the next right.”
Hawk whipped the vehicle to the right, tires screeching as he turned. He bumped along a narrow street until he approached another major intersection.
“Which way?”
“Left.”
Hawk followed her instructions before she led them down another small alleyway off the main road. When Hawk saw an open garage, he darted inside.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Alex asked.
Hawk nodded. “This is how we lose them. They’re not going to find us in here.”
“We need to split up,” Samuels said. “But we need a new rendezvous point. They’ll be watching for us at the hotel.”
“Memorize this address,” Hawk said before giving them the address of SnyperNet. “The passcode is the Pied Piper, okay? Don’t forget it. He won’t let you in under any circumstances.”
Samuels and Alex nodded.
“Be careful, both of you,” Hawk said.
Before they had time to respond, a convoy of police cars roared into the parking garage.
All three of the fugitives scrambled to get out of view of the headlights, but one of the police vehicles came to a stop just behind the SUV. Officers spilled out of the cars.
Hawk held his hands up and stood gingerly. “I surrender,” he said.
One of the officers rushed over and roughly handcuffed Hawk.
“How did you find us?” Hawk asked.
The apparent officer in charge smiled. “Never underestimate the power of French CCTV.” He gestured toward Samuels and Alex who were crouching nearby. “Arrest them, too.”
“You might want to see this,” one of the officers said, handing his superior a tablet.
“Well, what do you know? It’s the three criminals responsible for the Stuttgart Massacre. You just made my night, maybe even my career.”
CHAPTER 34
Thurmont, Maryland
BLUNT LOATHED NAVIGATING the quagmire of Washington traffic. However, he enjoyed a short road trip, the kind where he didn’t have to worry with clogged city arteries or depend on the faulty navigational app on his phone. He just wanted to drive and think.
After a tumultuous few days, he needed a respite from the chaos, even if he knew it would only be brief. The breaking story that the trio responsible for the Stuttgart Massacre had been nabbed by French Police the day before made Blunt’s stomach churn. He wanted to think about anything else but struggled to do so. However, he thought Noah Young’s request that Blunt make the
