“What the hell,” Wright said, yanking repeatedly. Still, it wouldn’t move.
“Let me try,” Quinn said, whose attempts also failed.
“Where is your laser cutter?” Wright asked Hawk, who was still waiting for the troops behind them to arrive.
He dug into his pocket and flipped it to Wright. “Make it quick. They’re almost here.”
Wright sliced through the dead bolt that was locked in place. But there was no key, only an access pad that served as a way of keeping people in as well as out.
“Hurry it up,” Hawk said. “I can hear them.”
The lock split, and Wright pulled the handle. Floodlights poured through the crack, the sound of Delta Force Humvees rumbling just a few meters away.
Quinn exited first, followed by Alex. Wright prepared to walk out with Blunt, but he hadn’t moved.
“Come on, Senator,” Wright said. “We need to go now.”
Blunt hobbled toward the door but froze when the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway.
A dozen guards rounded the corner and raised their weapons. Wright grabbed at Blunt’s shirt but missed. Shuffling backward toward the exit, Hawk started firing his gun, dropping several of the guards in front. But the ones in the back returned fire.
“Noooo!” Blunt screamed as he lunged in front of Hawk.
A bullet ripped through Blunt’s chest as the old man crumpled into Hawk’s arms. Wright held the door open as far as he could, utilizing it as a shield. Hawk dragged Blunt’s body behind the door as the guards continued to fire.
“Come on, buddy,” Hawk said as he dragged Blunt across the rocky ground. “Stay with me.”
Two Delta Force team members rushed over to help Hawk hoist Blunt into the back of one of the Humvees. Wright pulled the door shut behind him and scrambled for cover. Two of the vehicles with gun mounts waited for the door to spring open before spraying the guards and staving off any designs they had on a counterattack.
Alex and Hawk climbed into the Humvee with Blunt before the entourage of vehicles roared away from the Al Hasib hideout. Hawk felt Blunt’s wrist for a pulse while one of the medics on the Delta Force team worked to halt the bleeding.
The wheels bounced along the bumpy road, jarring them each time. A missile exploded a few meters away, and Hawk felt the searing heat through the window. Another missile fell harmlessly behind them.
“I think we’re out of their range,” Wright said. “We should have a rather pleasant ride back to the airfield. Only fifteen more minutes before we reach our chopper.”
Hawk had already disengaged with the mission details, content to let Delta Force handle the rest. All he cared about was Blunt, who had yet to open his eyes or squeeze Hawk’s hand.
“Just give me a sign,” Hawk said.
He glanced over at Alex. With all she’d been through, he thought she might be numb to the whole situation, but tears streamed down her cheeks as she grabbed Blunt’s other hand.
“You can’t die on us,” she said. “Not like this. Not now.”
Satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, the medic tried to stabilize Blunt after determining his vitals were in disarray.
Hawk pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not letting you go out like this, taking a bullet for me. What were you thinking?”
The next few minutes were a blur for Hawk. He barely remembered any of the ride or how he even found his way to the waiting helicopter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. But he couldn’t any longer, the dam breaking as the chopper lifted off the ground. Through bleary vision, he watched as two Delta Force team members worked on Blunt.
Hawk threw his head back and said a prayer.
CHAPTER 30
Landstuhl, Germany
HAWK GRABBED ALEX’S HAND as they sat at Blunt’s bedside, hoping that he would soon wake up. Forty-eight hours had passed since they escaped Al Hasib’s hideout, but Blunt’s status hadn’t changed. He remained unconscious, stable yet in serious condition. U.S. Army doctors at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center had managed to remove the bullet, which just missed his heart and several major arteries. They didn’t foresee any further complications but remained skeptical that Blunt had the physical stamina necessary to recover from such trauma.
“He’s a battle axe,” said Blunt’s attending physician, Dr. Nelson, as he looked over Blunt’s medical chart. “He’s definitely not going down without a fight.”
“What do you mean?” Hawk asked.
“A man his age shouldn’t survive something like this, but he’s not giving up.”
“You don’t know the senator,” Alex said.
“Actually, I do,” Dr. Nelson said. “We were friends another lifetime ago. I shouldn’t make such bold predictions, but if anyone is going to survive what he just went through, it’s J.D.”
“But you’re not changing your prognosis?” Hawk asked.
“There’s nothing to change until he does. But we’ll keep him here as long as we need to until he wakes up and can walk out of here.”
Hawk chuckled. “You know those two things will happen simultaneously, right? The moment he wakes up, he’s gonna want to walk right out the front door.”
Dr. Nelson smiled and winked. “We’ll make sure he only leaves here if he’s fit. Don’t you worry.”
“You’re the one who needs to be worried, making claims like that,” Hawk said. “He’s become even slier in his old age.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Dr. Nelson said before he exited the room.
Alex looked at Hawk. “What are we gonna do without him?”
“This isn’t the first time we’ve been faced with this situation,” Hawk said. “Only this time, I know Blunt isn’t faking anything.”
“Without Blunt, do we even have Firestorm? What’s waiting for us back in Washington if he—”
“Don’t say it,” Hawk said. “It’s not gonna happen.”
“But—”
“No. Just don’t, okay? We’ve seen him pull through worse before. He’ll pull through this time, too.”
“Even if he does, Blunt won’t live forever. We need to think about what happens after he’s gone.”
“What’s gonna happen is we will continue to fight against all the evil
