“Let’s stay here for a few minutes more, just to be sure,” Wilson whispered.
Satisfied that no one was there, the team stepped out into the open and headed toward Hawk’s van, first Wilson followed by Finch and Jackson. Hawk brought up the rear.
Before they knew what was going on, Wilson crumpled to the forest floor. Finch fell face forward on top of his commander. Jackson almost bowled Hawk over as he scrambled for cover. The two men moved through the darkness and took up a new position.
“Do you have any infrared goggles?” Hawk asked. “Because now would be a great time to use them.”
Jackson reached into his ruck sack and pulled out a pair, using them to scan the area.
“Anything?” Hawk asked in a hushed tone.
Jackson shook his head subtly. A bullet pinged off the rock, sending both men diving to the ground for cover.
“Was anyone following you?” Hawk asked, putting out his hand for the binoculars.
“No,” Jackson said, handing them to Hawk. “We were miles away from everyone. I don’t think anyone would’ve been able to follow us underwater.”
“Well, somebody knew where you were headed and sent a greeting party.”
“They’re not very friendly,” Jackson said.
Another bullet whizzed overhead, taking a few branches with it.
“We need to split up,” Hawk said. “Sticking together makes it easy for them to pin us down, whoever they are.”
“Roger that.”
Hawk stayed low, crouching as he moved around, utilizing the trees for cover. He snatched Wilson’s ruck sack off his back and kept moving. With Hawk’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a faint silhouette of Jackson darting away in the opposite direction.
When Hawk identified a good spot for a blind, he pulled out the binoculars and surveyed the area. He noticed a group of six seals, huddled together to undoubtedly plot their next move.
Hawk realized he wouldn’t have a better chance than this to take them all out. He grabbed a grenade from Wilson’s pack and hurled it in the direction of the men. One of the men shouted as the device exploded, sending shrapnel hurling in every direction. Hawk watched everyone scatter, except for two men, who laid facedown and appeared lifeless.
Hawk had reduced the deficit, but he was still in trouble being outnumbered two to one.
At least it isn’t three to one anymore.
Hawk had lost track of some of the men. But one man looked very familiar. Hawk gasped as he double-checked the man’s face. Despite the darkness, Doug Mitchell’s neck tattoo was too distinct.
That’s him all right. What the hell is he doing out here trying to kill us?
Hawk couldn’t believe Mitchell would betray his country like he was. Throwing all caution to the wind, Hawk shouted into the night air.
“Mitchell, what are you doing?” Hawk asked. “We’re on the same side.”
Mitchell didn’t respond with words, just his weapon. He fired a pair of shots toward Hawk’s general vicinity.
Hawk prepared to fire when he heard gunshots coming from the direction of the boulder where the rest of the team had been hiding. For a moment, Hawk thought maybe either Wilson or Finch was still alive. But when he focused in on that direction, he saw Jackson collapse near the other two bodies.
Hawk cursed as he realized the implications of what had just happened.
Now the odds are worse — four to one.
Hawk peered through his binoculars and saw one man still struggling from the aftermath of the grenade. He fired at the man, a bullet striking him in the chest.
Getting better — three to one.
As Hawk was trying to figure out a way to reduce the odds even further, he heard a vehicle engine roaring toward their position. The men began to scatter deeper into the woods as headlights swept across the trees.
Hawk glanced at the three SEALs all lying within a few feet of one another. With the vehicle still rumbling toward their direction but close enough to make visual contact, Hawk sprinted toward the bodies to snag their gear. Without it, he had no chance of survival, let alone sabotaging the weapons.
Hawk dove down and worked frantically to pull the essential items from their ruck sacks and combined them into one pack. However, as he was going through a second bag, he felt a shot rip through his shoulder.
“See ya round, Hawk,” a man shouted.
Hawk recognized Mitchell’s voice.
That was the last thing Hawk heard before he blacked out.
CHAPTER 31
Bridger, Montana
VIKTOR KOMAROV HONED in on Alex Hawk’s position. He watched as she held her son in her lap and read him a story. She smiled as she turned the pages, her face full of expressions even though the boy was fixated on the pictures inside.
Viktor had readily volunteered for this dangerous mission, though he thought it sounded rather simple. While he specialized in assassinations, he didn’t care for them as much as some of Andrei Orlovsky’s other men. However, this mission was personal.
Komarov moved quickly across the mountainside, scrambling over boulders and gliding across fallen trees spanning cold water creeks. The most recent snow had been a few days ago, but a recent stretch of sunshine had melted most everything but the places shrouded by heavy shadows. He was careful to avoid muddy or snowy patches so he wouldn’t leave behind any trace of his presence there.
Komarov noticed a pair of guards patrolling the perimeter of the home. He’d seen two other men near the gate leading up to the property, but they were easy to slip past in a wide open landscape. However, the two men lurking along the porch, one in the front and the other in the back, created a challenge.
An owl hooted overhead in a pine tree near the edge of the fence where a pair of horses galloped in circles. Viktor remained calm and assessed how he would kill the woman. He hadn’t decided if he was going to kill the boy. Letting him grow up without a mother was cruel, something he knew firsthand when he lost his mom during a mafia hit in the marketplace that went south.
Now, Komarov had lost a brother at the hands of a U.S. operative named Brady Hawk. The American had somehow thrown his brother off the side of a cliff. He was the last living relative Komarov had. He’d endured unimaginable pain in his life, but his brother Dima had helped him get through all the suffering, there when nobody else was. But there was nobody to help Viktor get past the death of Dima. Viktor felt abandoned in the world and he couldn’t suppress his rage any longer.
Since the death of his mother, Viktor had exacted revenge on every loved one who’d been killed, either violently or senselessly. He was going to make sure Brady Hawk would feel the pain in the deepest of ways.
Viktor focused his binoculars on Alex still sitting with her son. For a moment, Viktor contemplated how traumatic it would be for the little boy to be cuddled up with his mother reading a book only to have her head explode all over him. While Viktor smiled at the thought, he resisted the urge.
No, this has to be more personal.
He smiled again as he moved closer toward the house.
CHAPTER 32
Sonbong, North Korea
HAWK OPENED HIS EYES, trying to focus as his head bounced in rhythm with the bumps in the road. The low hum of tires beneath him clued him in that he was riding in the bed of a military transport truck. As he moved, he winced from the pain in his shoulder, which was still bleeding. He scanned the back and didn’t see any soldiers. Instead, there was just a mass of tangled bodies, arms and feet intertwined.
Hawk sucked a breath through his teeth as he freed himself from the weight of the other soldiers. He reached out and closed Wilson’s eyes, his blank stare haunting Hawk. The three brave SEALs who’d volunteered for the mission were all dead, and Hawk wanted to know how it had happened. The leak had to happen somewhere between the time the Magnum office received his call for help and the SEALs unit stationed in the Pacific was contacted. And it angered Hawk. Three patriots died needlessly because of a mole. But what made Hawk angrier was the fact that Doug Mitchell, more commonly known as the Reaper, had led such a mission against his own countrymen.