Stone grabbed Hawk by the arm. “I’m serious. There are plenty more men roaming the halls of this place with guns. They’re not going to ask questions. They’re just going to shoot.”
Hawk grinned wryly. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
He knelt down and removed his pack from his back.
“What are you doing?” Stone asked. “We don’t have time for this. Someone is going to be in here any minute now.”
Hawk tossed a hard hat at Stone along with a pair of coveralls, matching that of the mine employees.
“What’s this for?” Stone asked.
“That’s your plan B in case we get separated. There’s going to be a chopper waiting for us at an extraction point on the north side of the mountain in about half an hour from now.”
“I’d rather have a gun.”
Hawk dug through his bag and retrieved another weapon. “I figured you might. Now put on that uniform so we can get going.”
While Stone got dressed, Hawk alerted Alex that it was time to send the helicopter. Then the two men ventured into the main corridor of the Al Fatihin hideout.
“So you’ve tried to escape before?” Hawk whispered.
“Several times, but this place is like a maze—and it’s heavily guarded.”
“So where is everyone today?”
Stone shrugged. “Beats me. But I wouldn’t be so sure that you’ve entered at just the right time.”
They crept along without incident until they reached the exit.
“You ready?” Hawk asked.
Stone nodded.
Crouching low, Hawk went first and checked in both directions. With the coast clear, he signaled for Stone to join him. They moved stealthily toward the corner and peered around it. Hawk noticed two guards walking toward him.
“We’ve got two hostiles heading our way,” Hawk said. “I take the one on the right; you take the one on the left.”
“Roger that,” Stone said.
“On my mark.”
When Hawk gave the order, both men swung out around the corner and hit the unsuspecting men before they had a chance to fire back. Hawk and Stone stripped the guards of their guns and checked to make sure they were dead.
“That’s funny,” Stone said. “I don’t recognize either of these guys.”
“Are they not Al Faithin?”
Stone slid one of the men’s right sleeve down his arm and held it up for Hawk to see. Etched into his wrist was a tattoo with the words “Al Fatihin” written in Arabic and a shamshir.
“We got the right guys, but I’ve never seen them before.”
“Is that unusual?”
“I knew most of the Al Fatihin operatives by name. It was always the same group of men—and sometimes the woman.”
“Evana Bahar?”
Stone nodded.
“Let’s keep moving,” Hawk said.
They navigated toward the stairwell, where they found another lone Al Fatihin agent. Hawk shot the man in the chest at point-blank range before he could react.
“The chopper is two minutes out, Hawk,” Alex said over the coms.
“We’re almost there,” he said. “Are we still clean outside?”
“Clean as a whistle.”
Hawk and Stone hustled up to ground level and exited on the north side of the mountain where the CIA helicopter was stirring up a small dust storm. Glancing back one final time to make sure there were no Al Fatihin soldiers behind them, Hawk gestured for Stone to run. Hawk followed suit, jogging backward with his gun trained on the door in case any agents spilled outside.
Once Hawk and Stone were safely inside, the pilot took off and peeled away from the mountains to safety across the border in Afghanistan.
“As far as ops go, that was rather uneventful,” Stone said.
“Too uneventful,” Hawk said. “Something doesn’t seem right.”
“Are you clear now?” Alex asked.
“We’re clear,” Hawk said. “Get the message to the president that we’ve got Stone.”
Hawk patted Stone on the back. “Rest up. You’ve got a long journey ahead of you, and a lot of people want to talk to you.”
CHAPTER 2
Puyuhuapi, Chile
TITUS BLACK INHALED the fresh mountain air and slung his pack across his shoulders. He checked his weapon to make sure it was loaded before beginning the long climb up the gravel road. To his back was a stunning view of the Puyuhuapi fjord where the sun glistened off the turquoise water.
Not a bad place to hide.
With Hawk dispatched to fulfill President Young’s request to extract an American agent right from underneath the noses of Al Fatihin, General Van Fortner was still on the lam following the shooting at the National Security Complex in Langley. The Phoenix Foundation head J.D. Blunt ignored Young’s pleas to concentrate all of the organization’s resources on bringing home the CIA operative. According to Blunt, Fortner was the new key to unlocking the mystery of Obsidian and finding a way to infiltrate the group of people pulling the strings, particularly learning more about the fastest-growing social media platform in the world, Sermo, and its Russian billionaire owner Tanya Starikov.
It had taken nearly six weeks to get a potential location for Fortner, but when Blunt received one, he immediately dispatched Black to take care of the general.
The road up to Fortner’s hideout was steep, resulting in a leg burn even for someone in as good of shape as Black. A light fog drifted over the chaquiro pines and Andean oaks covering the mountainside, providing an ethereal feel to the hike. Patagonian sierra finches chirped their morning melodies, providing a peaceful soundtrack, which Black found to be an odd prelude to what was sure to be a violent confrontation.
After a half hour, Black crested a hill and reached a small terrace. A small wooden cabin was situated on the far side of the property next to a pond fed by a stream trickling down the mountain. As the sun fought through the dispersing clouds, Black noticed a man fishing from the dock.
In an effort to maintain the element of surprise, Black ducked into the woods. He was astonished to find Fortner living so freely, devoid of any armed protection. Surely he could’ve afforded such a necessity. But from Black’s initial survey of the area, Fortner lived simply—and lived alone.
A small bush hog and
