R Patterson - The Shadow Hunter

With one man undoubtedly hit, Hawk realized his best odds of survival were reuniting with Tyson. Moments later, another gust of wind slapped Hawk in the face. And he took that as his cue to bolt. He darted across the road and hurdled the snowbank on the other side. Without wasting any time, he rushed toward the spot where he’d parted with Tyson.

“T-Bone,” Hawk called, “what’s your twenty?”

Nothing.

The wind howled, mitigating any attempts he made to connect with Tyson.

Hawk was resigned to the reality of his situation. He needed to make visual contact with Tyson, which was also growing more difficult by the second. The wind was carrying along loose snow, adding to the drift on each side of the road. To make matters worse, the dark skies overhead opened up and were dumping more powder, swirling as it made its way to earth. Visibility shrank to no more than thirty yards.

Amidst all of the changing conditions and the unknown variables, Hawk was puzzled by the fact that Orlovsky’s men hadn’t driven away. Hawk and Tyson were as good as dead without a working vehicle in the middle of a Siberian winter storm. But the car just sat there, emergency lights blinking.

He stumbled toward where he’d left Tyson, continuing to call for him.

A minute or so passed before he found him, lips blue and eyes glazed over.

“T-Bone,” Hawk said, shaking his friend, “can you hear me?”

Tyson nodded almost imperceptibly. “I got him.”

“You killed one of the men?”

“I think so,” Tyson muttered. “I shot him in the chest and watched him stagger across the road.”

“Okay, I think I had a direct hit on the other guy,” Hawk said, taking Tyson by his shoulders. “We need to get out of here now.”

Tyson agreed and gestured for Hawk to lead the way. He kept his weapon trained in front of him as they moved across the roadway toward the car.

However, both men dropped to the ground as a gunshot pierced the air during a lull in the storm. Hawk scanned the highway shoulder and noticed a dark figure running toward them. Without any time to alert Tyson to what was happening, Hawk rolled over and fired three shots. Two of them found their mark, hitting the man in the chest. He crumpled to the ground.

Hawk rushed over to him and kicked his weapon away. The man gasped for air for a few seconds before he fell limp. Tyson came over to help Hawk drag the body behind the snowbank. There was no time or any need to bury the body. It’d be covered in ice and snow for another six to eight weeks before anyone would find him.

Hawk snagged the keys to the SUV from the man’s coat pocket before turning toward the vehicle.

“It’s time to get outta here,” Hawk said.

“Roger that,” Tyson mumbled.

Upon reaching the SUV, they found a man lying in the back trying to apply pressure to a wound to his midsection. Hawk trained his weapon on the man, who begged Hawk to shoot him.

“Please, have mercy,” the man said. “I don’t want to die like this in agony. Put me out of my misery.”

“I’ll oblige your last request,” Hawk said, helping the man out of the car. “You were going to get it whether you asked for it or not.”

“But before you do,” the man said, holding up one hand, “I need to tell you something.”

Hawk eyed the man closely. “Make it quick.”

“Mr. Orlovsky just wanted me to deliver a message,” he said, his lips quivering.

“And what was that?”

“He knows where you live. And he said you have a very cute son and that it’s a shame what’s going to happen to him.”

The man grinned, his blood-stained teeth exposed.

Hawk hesitated. “You look like you took too much pleasure in telling me that. Maybe I shouldn’t even waste a bullet on you.”

“No, please—”

Hawk fired a shot, hitting the man between the eyes. He fell face forward into the snow. “I wasn’t even about to go back on my word.”

Hawk and Tyson hustled over to the car. Tyson pushed the ignition button, and the engine easily came to life despite the temperature that had dipped well below freezing since the storm started.

“You got everything?” Hawk asked.

Tyson tapped his chest, the package crinkling as he did. “All right here.”

As Tyson eased onto the road in the direction of the coordinates, Hawk reached for his friend’s phone.

“What are you doing?” Tyson asked.

“I need to warn Alex. You heard what that man said.”

“No, no, no. You can’t use that phone. The Russians are listening. If they hear you talking to your wife on my phone, they’ll know we’re together—and there’s no reason for me to believe that they’d just trust you.”

“Come on, T-Bone. Alex doesn’t stand a chance if she doesn’t know they’re coming.”

Tyson shook his head and sighed, waiting a beat before responding. “I warned you about getting involved. And we passed the point of no return about five hundred kilometers ago.”

“Go back. Maybe we can get one of the phones off Orlovsky’s men.”

“We don’t have time,” Tyson said “We’ve had enough delays already. If I’m a no-show, they’re going to suspect that something happened. And when I finally show up, they won’t trust me.”

“Who? The Russians or the North Koreans?”

Tyson shrugged, straining to see the road in front of him. “Does it even matter?”

Hawk bit his lip and said a little prayer under his breath. Alex needed divine intervention if she and John Daniel were going to survive an attack by one of Orlovsky’s hired goons.

Washington, D.C.

PRESIDENT NORRIS POPPED an antacid pill into his mouth and then took a large gulp of water. The cabinet has assembled in the situation room to deal with a growing concern coming out of North Korea. And he knew it was bound to be a contentious discussion where the hawks and doves would be drawing lines and digging in. Ultimately, he’d have to make the final decision, one with great implications for both the future of the country and his own political aspirations.

Norris scanned a document one of his aides had slid to him regarding the current conflict. It replaced the one he’d been reading from his campaign manager that showed Norris headed for an easy re-election. His popularity had risen to Ronald Reagan levels, almost assuring him a similar reverential position in American history. But the preliminary polling showed that entering into a conflict with North Korea would put that smooth route to re-election in jeopardy.

Once the meeting began, the defense secretary explained that the Navy jets scrambled to show North Korea the U.S. military was taking their threats seriously had served their purpose. For the twenty-four hours following the initial altercation, Kim Yong-ju had gone silent. He hadn’t pumped out any propaganda videos or thumped his chest on social media. But in the past two hours, things had changed quickly.

Several North Korean nuclear subs were being moved around to the port in Sonbong, which worried the Pentagon—and Norris, too.

“Why are we even here, sir?” General Miller asked. “I think it’s evident to all of us at the table that we need to send another message, this time making it even clearer that we will not tolerate this foolishness from Kim Yong-ju.”

Secretary Wheeler cocked her head to one side and scowled. “Not evident to everyone at the table.”

Norris closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere but the situation room, mediating a disagreement between his chief diplomat and the war-thirsty vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“Can we please not do this today?” Norris said, smacking his hands on the table. “I think we should all act like the adults that we are. If we can’t have an intelligent discussion about the pros and cons of launching an attack on North Korea to stop this nonsense, I wonder what we’re doing here too.”