But not Olly. He kept Edgefield grounded and determined to stick around for every birthday party, school play, and t-ball game, even if Rebecca didn’t hide her resentment toward him. And while he could’ve spent more time with his son, Edgefield wondered if cutting ties with The Hatchet would bring more freedom, creating more father-son moments.
Edgefield was jarred back to reality when his burner phone buzzed. He glanced at the name on the screen. It was The Hatchet.
“I take it you got the information I sent you,” Edgefield said after he answered.
“You screwed over my employer,” The Hatchet said. “In fact, you made him look like a fool.”
“I don’t tell you what to do with the intel I give you. That’s up to you. You just asked me to pass it along.”
“You played us and now you’re going to pay a price.”
The Hatchet ended the call abruptly, leaving Edgefield alone with his thoughts.
Pay a price?
It was an ominous threat, one that Edgefield was inclined to take seriously given what he knew about The Hatchet. But there wasn’t anything Edgefield could do about it, other than arm himself. He couldn’t report his complicity in scurrilous activities to law enforcement. And he certainly couldn’t take the matter to his boss.
Edgefield convinced himself that it was all bluster and nothing to worry about. Then he got up and fixed himself a cup of tea before getting ready for bed.
AS EDGEFIELD CLIMBED under the covers, he revisited The Hatchet’s conversation again, replaying it in his mind.
Pay a price? What does that even mean?
He pondered how he might handle any future confrontations. He checked the drawer in his nightstand for his pistol before turning off the light. If anyone tried anything on him, he could handle himself. After all, he’d worked for the agency and was trained in how to deal with any attackers.
But all the training he’d endured didn’t prepare him for the rude awakening he received an hour later.
A large hand clamped down over his mouth mere seconds before a needle pierced his neck.
Edgefield fought off the man, breaking free. Then he went on the offensive, rushing toward the man. But Edgefield took three steps before he collapsed, crashing face first onto the floor.
CHAPTER 24
Yakutsk, Russia
HAWK SITUATED HIMSELF on the floorboard behind the passenger seat and covered himself with a blanket. He was counting on Tyson not noticing him hidden in the shadows of the dark parking garage when he got into the car. By Hawk’s estimation, Tyson would need to be in the vehicle in the next ten minutes if he was going to make the checkpoint on time.
Before the mission, Morgan had given Hawk a vague warning about Tyson perhaps being resistant to return home. And while he had offered a plausible explanation, Hawk figured there had to be more to the story. He couldn’t conceive how a patriot like Tyson could go from wanting to protect his family to outright betraying his country. And Hawk was intent on getting some answers—and stopping Tyson.
Hawk’s muscles burned as he remained still, crammed into the car. It had been a few years since such dedication to his craft was required. Breaking into corporate headquarters and the private homes of CEOs was relatively easy work. His life was never in jeopardy and long stakeouts weren’t necessary. But on this mission, Hawk had found himself tested at every turn, forced to survive and improvise. Now, he faced a more arduous task that wasn’t something he was accustomed to doing, even when he was the best asset at the Phoenix Foundation: Hawk needed to turn someone. And just hours earlier, Hawk hadn’t imagined it’d be something he would have to do.
When he broke into Tyson’s home, Hawk bugged the apartment. He also attached a small fiber optics device to Tyson’s phone that allowed the Magnum team to intercept phone calls and texts. Dr. Z had invented it, tucking it in a small compartment in Hawk’s watch. The intel gathered from the device was why Hawk knew to hide in Tyson’s car.
Mia snagged a text message to Tyson that gave him coordinates to deliver “the code.” She wasn’t sure what that meant when she initially read the note, but when she plugged in the coordinates and saw that it was located in North Korea, warning bells went off for her. Based on all the tension between the U.S. and North Korea, she figured it couldn’t just be a mere coincidence that the Russians were having an American deliver a secret code to North Korea. When she’d told Hawk, he recognized the masterstroke the Russians were attempting to make—a proxy war.
For all their pride and bluster, Russia knew it couldn’t defeat the U.S. in a war. But letting someone else without such awareness engage the Americans in a conflict? That was a job a delusional leader like Kim Yong-ju would embrace unwittingly. By the time he realized he was a pawn for the Russians, it’d be too late. His impulsiveness would take North Korea into the throes of conflict without a second thought. Meanwhile, Russia would take pleasure in seeing the U.S. military weakened and the superpower pilloried by other nations for bullying such a poor country.
While this was the theory Hawk had cobbled together based on his knowledge of geopolitics plus everything he’d gathered from Tyson’s place, it was a plausible one. After thinking through everything, Hawk floated his theory by Morgan, who struggled to poke holes in it. And although it was possible that North Korea was instigating a showdown with the U.S. all on its own, Russia would undeniably benefit no matter if they were involved or not. If the Russians happened to catch wind about North Korea, Hawk was convinced that the two nations would partner together in some fashion. And what better way to stoke the fires of war by using an American operative to help make it happen.
However, the theory hinged on what “the code” meant.
Hawk crouched lower when he heard approaching footsteps. He waited until he heard Tyson buckle his seatbelt before revealing his presence.
“Well, well, well,” Hawk said.
Tyson gasped and turned to glare at Hawk. “What the hell, man?”
“You’re slipping, T-Bone. I could’ve killed you a number of different ways if I was an enemy spy.”
“Stay down,” Tyson said. “They could be watching me right now.”
“And by they, are you referring to the FSB or the Russian military?”
“Does it matter? Either one of them would put a bullet in my head if they thought I had an American in the car with me.”
“I’ll stay hidden,” Hawk said. “But I’m going with you.”
“If you want to pretend like we’re SEALs again while I drive to the store to get a gallon of milk and some eggs, be my guest. But I have a feeling that you’re thinking this is something more.”
Hawk glanced at the travel coffee mug resting in the cup holder, the steam wafting into the air. “You mean to tell me you’re bringing your large coffee mug for a short trip to the market?”
“Yeah, it’s o-six-hundred,” Tyson said. “I’m barely awake.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Hell, T-Bone, I can smell the body wash you lathered all over yourself during your shower this morning.”
Tyson sighed and leaned against his seat’s headrest. “You can’t come with me, Hawk.”
“I know where you’re going,” Hawk said, “but you know you can’t give that code to the North Koreans.”
“I don’t even know what it’s for, and I don’t think you should make any judgments on that either. Besides, you came here to take me home, but I’m not going. So your mission is over.”
“Rule number forty-seven of espionage states: ‘Be opportunistic. When your intended mission breaks down, take advantage of the situation if there’s more intel to be gained.’”