“My friend who came home to visit with me. You remember meeting her, don’t you?”
Young nodded. “I don’t know, honey.”
“They separated us. We need to find her.”
“Okay, we’ll do our best.”
As Hawk took in the touching scene, he appreciated the humanizing moment. He didn’t often get to see what his work meant to people, especially their loved ones. But seeing the raw emotions of two people who’d been through a horrifying ordeal reminded him that serving his country was never about killing enemies—it was about saving lives and preserving precious freedom. Eliminating terrorists was just the means to accomplish this end.
Hawk looked up the stairwell to see Mia standing on the landing, tears streaming down her face. He hustled up to her and put his arm around her.
“Didn’t realize you could do so many amazing things while sitting at your keyboard, did you?” he asked.
She shook her head but didn’t say a word.
“It’s all right,” he said. “This is the best part of our job.”
Hawk’s attention was arrested when another agent tapped him on the shoulder.
“What is it?” Hawk asked.
“Agent Southorn wants to see you,” the man said. “Evana Bahar has vanished again.”
CHAPTER 27
July 3, 6:30 a.m.
Virginia Beach, Virginia
TITUS BLACK HELD onto the railing of the Coast Guard cruiser as it barreled toward the Principe de Estrella less than a mile outside of port. Black joined a Special Forces team that aimed to search the Nicolo ship originating out of Argentina. If his team was right, the weapons being shipped to Virginia Beach would be on board.
The sun peeked through a thin string of clouds on the horizon, creating silhouettes of the crew members on the cargo ship’s deck. They scurried around when they realized what was happening.
“This is definitely it, gentlemen,” Black said. “Be prepared for anything in there.”
The Coast Guard captain ordered the Principe de Estrella to slow down, a command which was ignored.
“I guess they want to do this the hard way,” Black said to one of the soldiers.
“We’re going to surround the boat and call in some assistance,” the Coast Guard captain said. “The last thing we want is them dumping weapons into the harbor.”
He radioed for help and got it in a big way as two more boats joined them, escorting the Nicolo ship to the dock. Black waited until the boat was secure before he and the other Special Forces members entered the Principe de Estrella. Most of the crew skittered around, acting busy to avoid a confrontation. After asking several men to stop and talk with him and getting ignored, Black cornered one man.
“Where’s your captain?”
The man shrugged and walked off.
Black growled and then grabbed the man’s arm. “Donde está el capitan?”
The man jerked his arm free and then pointed down. Black motioned for the other men to join him below deck.
The soldiers followed Black as they stormed into the kitchen with their weapons drawn. The captain threw his hands in the air.
“We didn’t do anything,” the captain said.
“We need to search this vessel,” Black said.
“We have nothing to hide.”
Black and the crew spread out and radioed for the help to come aboard. In a matter of minutes, port authority staff flooded the ship. As the soldiers stood watch to make sure nothing was moved or hidden, inspectors explored every inch of the ship for contraband materials as a way to impound the ship in order to perform a more thorough search. However, an hour into the hunt for anything illegal came up empty.
Black strode around the holding bay to see if there was anything else he could do. He saw three men sitting on a stack of pallets drinking coffee and decided to engage with them.
“Colombian coffee?” Black asked, nodding at their cups.
“Sí, señor,” one of the men said. “You want some?”
Black shook his head. “I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind getting down from there for a minute.”
The men looked at him with furrowed brows before glancing at each other and shrugging.
“Oh, you don’t understand,” Black said. “Abajo. Ahora!”
The men slowly climbed off their perch, holding their drinks steady.
“Hay algún problema?” one of the men asked.
“The problema is this ship has some illegal weapons in it, doesn’t it?” Black asked.
He whistled, arresting the attention of several inspectors. Two hustled over to Black.
“Did you find something?” one of the men asked.
“I think there’s something under these pallets,” Black said.
Several other guards raced over to help move the empty pallets. After five minutes, the area was clear.
“So, where are the weapons, chief?” one of the inspectors asked.
Black marched over to the center of the area and started to tap his heel on the floor. For the first thirty seconds, everyone remained mesmerized by his method. Then the Bolivian shipmates started to laugh, mocking Black as if he was dancing.
Black shot them a look before returning to his process. Just when he was about to give up, he heard a hollow sound. He lay prone on the ground and blew dust away near a small crack he noticed in the floor.
“Somebody give me their keys,” Black said as he held out his hand.
One of the men on his crew handed Black a set of keys. He wedged one of them into the small gap, attempting to finagle it open. Once the floor moved a few inches, Black knew what he’d found. He wrapped his fingertips around the edge and pried up a long slat. Beneath it was an iron hook connected to a hatch.
Black yanked the door open, revealing a small ladder leading into a dark space.
He glanced at the ship's crew clustered together. "Any of you geniuses want to tell me what's in there or do I need to go down to find out myself?"
None of the men moved.
“Fine,” Black said. “Have it your way.”
He climbed down, an inspector right behind him. Black had a soft landing as he hit the ground, which was covered in straw. Pulling out his flashlight, he
