“You could have his public position be resignation but technically, you could give him a dishonorable discharge and revoke his pension. That’d be more than a slap on the wrist for an admiral.”
“I could go with that. So what else did you find?”
Besserman shifted in his chair. “From all that our investigation gathered, Admiral Gaston acted alone. However, we can’t confirm that at the moment. All we know is that he ordered more ships into the area, which stoked the fire. We haven’t been able to link anyone else to the action.”
“So, in your estimation, is the threat within our military to undermine me eliminated?”
“Like I said, we can’t be certain at this point, but removing a high-ranking official like Gaston who was stirring up trouble definitely goes a long way in re-establishing your authority. And while this might not get out to the press for months, this news will definitely circulate among naval officers, serving as a deterrent for anyone who has similar ideas.”
“Okay,” Norris said. “Good work. Keep me posted if you find any additional links between Gaston and other disgruntled military members.”
Besserman chuckled. “All military members are disgruntled, sir. I think it’s part of the job description to complain about everything from pay scale to bloated budgets to lack of leadership.”
“It’s always good to know that the battle isn’t winnable.”
“That’s right, sir. Just keep doing what you’re doing and don’t concern yourself with all the added noise. It usually amounts to nothing anyway.”
The men stood and shook hands before Besserman exited the office. Norris paced around the room for a few minutes before sitting down again.
Getting rid of a rogue admiral was important for his assertion of authority, but he didn’t like Besserman’s dodgy answer. Norris had to know who else was involved and how many. And until he did, he wasn’t sure he’d get much sleep at night.
CHAPTER 39
Punta Cana, Dominican Republic
MITCHELL THREW TWENTY DOLLARS at the cab driver before abruptly exiting the car. The driver thanked him for the generous tip, shouting out the window as he drove off. Mitchell hustled down the street and ducked into an alley. After navigating around the back of a stretch of buildings, he entered the marketplace.
Farmers and craftsmen hawked their wares as an endless parade of tourists snaked their way in front of all the tables set up in the street. On one corner, a mariachi band serenaded ladies as a subtle request for tips. On another, a chef served up niños envueltos, a traditional Dominican dish consisting of rice and ground beef wrapped in cabbage. Everything from wooden carved toys to furniture to colorful clothing and anything else that could be sold as a souvenir was on display.
Mitchell ducked into a tent where an elderly woman was selling scarves. Based on the amount of stock hanging off every rack in her store, her items weren’t all that popular in the warm climate.
“Necesito tomar prestado tu teléfono,” Mitchell said, asking to borrow her phone.
She scowled at him and shook her head. “Ladrón!”
Mitchell wasn’t a thief, but if the woman didn’t calm down and acquiesce to his request, he considered overpowering her.
“No soy un ladrón,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Estoy en problmas. Hay hombres detrás de mí.”
She glared at him. “Salir ahora.”
Mitchell snatched her phone out of her pocket and raced out of the tent. She screeched, begging anyone to help her. But her cries were ignored among the tourists who were unaware of what she was saying and the other store owners who weren’t willing to leave their wares unattended.
Mitchell darted down an alley before re-dialing the number. He went through the same process again until he reached his contact.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, but could you tell me the address again for the clinic?” Mitchell asked.
“Clinic?” the man asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind,” Mitchell said before hanging up.
Someone almost played me.
He deleted the record of the call before returning the phone to the woman. She smacked him several times with the back of her hand, but he apologized and then thanked her by giving her a hundred-dollar bill. She stopped squawking after that and finally offered a weak smile.
Now, time to disappear again.
He grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around his head.
HAWK TOLD his driver to stop. After the cabbie complied, Hawk paid the fare and hustled toward the marketplace. He wasn’t sure where Reaper had gone, but Hawk figured if he was in the same position, that’s where he would go. Big crowds were easy for him to disappear into, and he was betting that Reaper was thinking the same thing.
Hawk alerted Alex and Mia to the situation. “I could be completely wrong, so be alert in case he shows up. But if I were him, I’d save my curiosity for another day.”
“We’ll be ready for whatever happens,” Alex said over the coms. “Just keep us posted.”
“Roger that.”
Hawk wouldn’t have been so inclined to play his hunch, knowing that the odds of finding a target in such a crowded place would be infinitesimal. But that’s because until today, he’d never worn a pair of Dr. Z’s Sunglazzes.
Hawk tugged his cap down low across his face as he mingled with the tourists, going with the flow. He trudged past countless merchants offering everything from traditional food to authentic Dominican clothing. He constantly shook his head as store owners vied for his attention.
As Hawk moved along, he checked every face. An outline encircled every face and flashed red when it didn’t find a match in the database. This process continued for ten minutes without any results.
Then Hawk noticed a bulkier woman limping toward him along the edge, dressed in traditional Dominican garb and wearing a scarf. She was hunched over a cane and shuffling slowly. He stared directly at her, but she didn’t seem to notice him.
Just as Hawk passed her, his glasses outlined her face and flashed green.
“I’ve got a visual on him,” Hawk said over the coms in a hushed tone. “He’s in the market.”
“On our way,” Alex said.
Hawk waited a moment before turning around and following Reaper. Without the glasses, Hawk would’ve likely walked right past him. The disguise was good, but not good enough to outwit Dr. Z’s facial recognition device.
Hawk maintained a safe distance from Reaper for a couple of minutes. However, when he reached an intersection near the end of the market, he looked around before dashing down a back alley.
“We’ve got a runner,” Hawk said over the coms as he broke into a sprint in pursuit.
Hawk pumped his arms, his lungs feeling as if they were on fire after a couple of minutes. Back and forth through a series of alleys and tight streets, the two men ran. Reaper struggled to find any way to separate himself from Hawk, but Hawk wondered how much longer he could keep up the pace. His target didn’t seem to tire, signaling that he was in much better cardio shape than Hawk.
“How you holding up?” Alex asked.
“He’s still running,” Hawk said.
“Just don’t lose him,” she said. “We’re almost there.”
Hawk followed Reaper for two more blocks before he switched directions and raced down a narrow street that took a hard right turn. When Hawk reached the turn, he found himself staring directly at Reaper’s gun.
“Over there,” Reaper said, motioning for Hawk to move against the wall, which all but hemmed him in.