Hawk calculated the precise moment to set his plan in motion. Affixing the steering wheel with a rope so it couldn’t move, he put the car in drive and then placed the large rock on the accelerator. The SUV sped toward the bend in the winding road, leaving behind a trail of dust. Hawk sprinted toward the barn and kept the door cracked. He whipped out his rifle and started firing in the direction of the oncoming caravan, giving the illusion that he was behind the steering wheel and shooting at them.
Men popped out of the sides of the approaching vehicles, unloading semi-automatic weapons. But Hawk’s SUV hurtled toward them without slowing down. As it drew nearer, the terrorists’ trucks parted, making way for Hawk’s SUV to plummet off the side of the mountain.
For a moment, the move perplexed the men. They skidded to a stop and got out, looking at each other in disbelief. Several men shook their heads as they peered over the edge.
“That was clever,” Alex said.
“Only if they buy it,” Hawk said.
The men from the rear drove up, joining the other group. After a brief discussion, they all fanned out, weapons in hand.
“They’re heading straight toward you,” Alex said.
“Roger that,” Hawk said as he eased back to find a better hiding spot.
He situated himself in the barn and prepared for the long haul.
“You good?” Alex asked.
“Depends,” he replied. “How’s it looking out there?”
“Dammit,” she said. “I just lost my satellite feed. But the last image I saw had at least six men with weapons trained in front of them headed toward you.”
“All right,” Hawk said. “I’m going dark. I’ll contact you when I’m out of here.”
“I love you.”
“You too.”
Hawk scrambled deeper into the back, hiding next to a stack of hay bales. Steadying his breathing, he peeked through a tiny hole to see if his situation had changed.
It hadn’t.
The hostiles continued to march toward him, weapons drawn. Hawk was five miles away from the extraction point without a vehicle and surrounded by gunmen.
Maybe I should’ve tried to fight my way out of this.
Now, he didn’t have a choice.
CHAPTER 2
Moscow, Idaho
J.D. BLUNT FIRMLY SMOOTHED the fake mustache above his upper lip before checking his disguise one final time in the rearview mirror. The new spectacles Mia had given him before he left looked far more sophisticated than any reading glasses he’d ever worn. After getting out of his rental car, he jammed his hands into his coat in response to the chill of late September in northern Idaho.
This ain’t East Texas.
Blunt shuffled up to the entrance of the Corner Club, a small windowless building that appeared lifeless on the outside. He scanned the area before entering the self-proclaimed best sports bar in the small college town. What the drinking establishment lacked in the way of decor on the outside was made up by the atmosphere on the inside. Students stood shoulder to shoulder on one side, while older adults, running the gamut from mid-twenties to men who appeared to be in their eighties, jammed into the other half of the room.
And sitting on a stool at a high, round table was his niece Morgan.
She gave Blunt a friendly wave once their eyes locked and motioned for him to join her. He twisted and turned to navigate past the patrons glued to the football game playing on several televisions plastered against the wall. Morgan’s face broke into a big grin as he sat down.
“If you hadn’t told me what you were wearing, I would've never recognized you,” she said.
“That’s the goal,” Blunt said.
“Actually, I’m glad you came tonight because I’ve been fairly bored other than classes.”
“I know there’s not as much to do here, but I thought you’d at least be able to work on your shooting.”
A faint smile spread across her lips. “I’ve made time for that. Based on what you told me, I ought to be at the top of my class when things start.”
“Yeah, about that,” Blunt said.
“Well, I can’t wait to join you," she said, ignoring his interruption before taking a sip of her beer. “This witness protection program is for the birds.”
He sighed. “Have you already forgotten what happened to you at the hands of Sinclair’s goons?”
“I’ll never forget that. And that’s why I want to work to stop these people, just like you do.”
Blunt shook his head. “Morgan, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, there are so many other things you could do.”
“Uncle J.D., don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical to try to dissuade me from doing the same thing you are?”
Blunt slowly surveyed the room. He hadn’t seen anyone enter the bar since he’d come in, but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down. After Morgan’s near death experience at the hands of Obsidian agents, Blunt pulled a few strings to get her into the witness protection program, giving her a new identity.
“I do this so the ones I love can be safe.”
“And I appreciate that,” she said. “What’s wrong with me wanting to follow in your footsteps? I have similar concerns for my loved ones too. You can’t do this forever.”
“You need to be enjoying your time in college, all while being cautious. You never want to let your guard down.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here for months, and this might be the last place anyone would look for me. Besides, by the time anyone would think to search here, I should be long graduated and working for the CIA by then.”
Blunt bristled at the mention of the CIA. Her kidnapping a year earlier had resulted in a thorough investigation, which included plenty of interviews with government agents. By the time it was over, she wanted to take her criminal justice
