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  “R.J. Patterson does a fantastic job at keeping you engaged and interested. I look forward to more from this talented author.”

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  “Patterson has a mean streak about a mile wide and puts his two main characters through quite a horrible ride, which makes for good reading.”

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  “Like a John Grisham novel, from the very start I was pulled right into the story and couldn’t put the book down. It was as if I personally knew and cared about what happened to each of the main characters. Every chapter ended with so much excitement and suspense I had to continue to read until I learned how it ended, even though it kept me up until 3:00 A.M.

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  DEAD SHOT

  “Small town life in southern Idaho might seem quaint and idyllic to some. But when local newspaper reporter Cal Murphy begins to uncover a series of strange deaths that are linked to a sticky spider web of deception, the lid on the peaceful town is blown wide open. Told with all the energy and bravado of an old pro, first-timer R.J. Patterson hits one out of the park his first time at bat with Dead Shot. It’s that good.”

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  NFL writer for CBSSports.com

  & author of Sid Gillman: Father of the Passing Game

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  and play-by-play voice for Boise State football

  DEAD IN THE WATER

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  - Mark Schlabach,

  ESPN college sports columnist and

  co-author of Called to Coach

  Heisman: The Man Behind the Trophy

  Other titles by R.J. Patterson

  Ed Maddux thriller series

  King of Queens

  To Catch a Spy

  Whispers of Treason

  Brady Hawk series

  Dead Shot

  Dead Line

  Better off Dead

  Dead in the Water

  Dead Man's Curve

  Dead and Gone

  Dead Wrong

  Dead Man's Land

  Dead Drop

  Dead to Rights

  Dead End

  Dead on Arrival

  James Flynn Thriller series

  The Warren Omissions

  Imminent Threat

  The Cooper Affair

  Seeds of War

  Brady Hawk series

  First Strike

  Deep Cover

  Point of Impact

  Full Blast

  Target Zero

  Fury

  State of Play

  Siege

  Seek and Destroy

  Into the Shadows

  Hard Target

  No Way Out

  Two Minutes to Midnight

  Against All Odds

  Any Means Necessary

  Vengeance

  ANY MEANS NECESSARY

  A Brady Hawk Thriller

  R.J. PATTERSON

  For Chad, for his service to his country

  CHAPTER 1

  Arabian Sea,

  off the coast of Somalia

  BRADY HAWK TUGGED on the rope tied to his harness as he sat suspended off the side of the ocean freighter and out of sight. Satisfied that the cable keeping him tethered to the grappling hook above was taut, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He filtered out the sounds of the water lapping against the hull and the seagulls circling overhead. All he wanted to hear was the conversation occurring on the deck.

  “How much longer?” a man asked in Arabic.

  “Fifteen minutes and everything will be secured.”

  “Excellent.”

  Hawk couldn’t see anyone from his vantage point, but he didn’t have to. For starters, he recognized the voice of Asad Kudrati the moment he started speaking. The Somali pirate was all business, but his voice had been frequently recorded on surveillance footage between him and other illegal arms dealers. Yet this was the first time Hawk had been in such close proximity to the man.

  But Hawk didn’t need to see everything. His real eyes on the operation belonged to Alex, his wife and partner on all endeavors commissioned by the Phoenix Foundation. Comfortably tracking all the action a few miles away from a U.S. Navy destroyer, she relayed pertinent information to Hawk, following the entire operation from a satellite feed.

  Hawk strained to listen as the conversation on deck fell silent.

  “They’re almost finished loading their three boats,” Alex said. “Kudrati is on the port side now. And he’s drinking straight from a bottle of some sort.”

  “Roger that,” Hawk whispered. “Let me know when it’s time to move.”

  “Will do.”

  Hawk closed his eyes and took momentary pleasure in the sea breeze. The smell of the salty water always brought back plenty of memories, some of spending time on the beaches of Northern California as a kid visiting his grandmother, some while training with the Navy SEALs in Southern California. The two experiences couldn’t have been more polar opposites when it came to enjoyment.

  Opening his eyes, he smiled and shook his head at the thought of his current situation. He was amused at the twisted path he found himself on after uncovering the list of people affiliated with the Russian arms dealer Andrei Orlovsky.

  You never know what adventures snorkeling in Venice will lead to.

  Hawk pulled out his binoculars. The sun flickered faintly off some reflective object on the deck of U.S.S. The Sullivans. The ship was still there, ready to make a move when necessary.

  “He’s coming your way,” Alex said. “Get ready because the deck is clear.”

  Hawk maneuvered into position, grasping the rope with both hands while stabilizing himself with his feet.

  “On your command,” Hawk said.

  “Swing to your left in 3,2, 1,” Alex said. “Now!”

  Hawk swung to one side and then the other before grabbing onto the railing and flinging himself over. Kudrati had his back turned to Hawk when he stealthily landed. Untethering from the rope and drawing his weapon, Hawk rushed toward Kudrati. Hawk kept his index finger over his lips and eyed Kudrati closely. With a slight nod to acknowledge the command, Kudrati followed Hawk’s lead as they descended below deck and into the captain’s quarters. Vacated after the pirates boarded the ship, the room was devoid of any people but had been tossed by pirates looking for a little extra something for their pockets.

  “In here,” Hawk said, using his gun to direct Kudrati inside.

  Kudrati shuffled over to a table and a pair of chairs.

  “Sit down,” Hawk said, speaking in Arabic. He proceeded to lock the door before walking over to his prisoner.

  Kudrati eased into one of the seats and kept his left hand up in a posture of surrender while the right one clung to a bottle of baijiu. Hawk motioned for Kudrati to slide the liquor acro
ss the table, a gesture that was followed.

  Hawk grabbed the drink and smelled the rim. He shook his head, screwing his face up.

  “How do you drink this stuff?” Hawk asked in English.

  “It’s an acquired taste,” Kudrati responded. “After you rob enough Chinese freighters, you just get used to it. The bastards don’t drink anything else.”

  Hawk returned the bottle to the table and settled into the chair across from his prisoner.

  “I suppose you didn’t bring me down here to discuss the distinct ingredients of Chinese liquor, did you?” Kudrati asked.

  A faint smile flickered across Hawk’s lips. “I already know how it burns—and also how unsatisfying it is.”

  “Yet it’s the most popular liquor in the world.”

  “Only because they haven’t figured out how to make whiskey with cheaper ingredients.”

  Kudrati chuckled. “One would assume.”

  Hawk brandished his gun, training it on Kudrati. “Well, I’m not assuming anything when it comes to how you found out about the cargo on this particular ship. I want you to tell me for yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a pirate. I steal things.”

  Hawk leaned forward. “This is different. I know what this vessel was carrying—and so did you. I also know that you’re connected to a certain Russian arms dealer.”

  Kudrati laughed. “If you know so much, why are we even having this conversation?”

  “Because I need to hear it directly from you to confirm. And then I have some other questions for you.”

  “You won’t hear anything from me. But I will hear your screams as you die when my men swarm upon you.”

  Hawk narrowed his eyes. “Your men will be more interested in saving themselves in a few minutes. They’ll forget you were ever their captain.”

  “You underestimate my men.”

  Hawk leaned back in his seat before responding. “Are you still there, Alex?”

  “Just waiting for your word,” she said.

  “Let the commander know that it’s time.”

  Kudrati shook his head. “Do you think your little game is going to scare me?”

  Hawk stood and backed toward the window, tapping on it with his gun. “Why don’t you take a look?”

  Kudrati slowly rose to his feet and strode over toward the window. He peered through it before looking at Hawk. “It appears you have brought reinforcements,” Kudrati said. “That doesn’t change my position. My men are going to remain until I’m aboard with them.”

  “Then your men are fools and will soon be dead. Now, perhaps we should start over. Where did you learn about this particular shipment?”

  “I already told you, I—”

  “This time I want the truth. Did Andrei Orlovsky tell you about what was on board?”

  “Andrei who?”

  Hawk slammed his fist onto the table. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t. I’m truly sorry that you have wasted your time.”

  “Tell me what you know about Obsidian.”

  Kudrati shook his head again. “What is an Obsidian?”

  “Your feigned ignorance won’t get you very far with me. I happen to have proof that you’re tied to the group. And if you want to live, you will tell me what you know about them.”

  “Your arrogance will be your downfall,” Kudrati said before breaking into a hearty laugh. “You Americans never cease to amaze me with your brazen bravado.”

  Before Hawk could respond, thundering footsteps pounded down the hall. He raced around the table and placed his hand over Kudrati’s mouth and a gun to his head. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say a word.”

  Kudrati ripped Hawk’s hand away and screamed in Arabic. “I’m in here.”

  Hawk pistol-whipped Kudrati in the head, knocking him out.

  “Alex, what’s your ETA?” Hawk asked.

  “We’ll be in range in five minutes,” she said. “But I have a drone that will be in position in a matter of seconds.”

  “Take one of their boats out,” Hawk said. “They need something to retreat to.”

  “Roger that.”

  The pounding on the door outside grew louder as the men called for Kudrati. They shouted their demands that he be released. When Hawk didn’t respond, they resorted to threats.

  As the rancorous mob continued outside, Hawk couldn’t resist the urge to answer.

  “Save yourselves and return to your ship,” he said in Arabic.

  The men outside laughed before resuming their pounding on the door.

  “Give us Kudrati,” they started to chant in unison.

  The sound of a missile annihilating one of the boats on the port side ended the men’s mantra. Instead of shouting, Hawk heard only their footfalls growing fainter as they raced up the steps to the ship’s deck. With the captain’s quarters on the starboard side, Hawk couldn’t see what had happened with the drone strike, but he didn’t need to. The anguish emanating from the men above told Hawk all he needed to know.

  Kudrati moaned as he started to regain consciousness.

  “Your men are gone,” Hawk said. “They scrambled away, terrified of the drone circling their ships outside.”

  “You bastard,” Kudrati said. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  Hawk nodded. “Exactly what I set out to do.”

  “Those men are innocent. They know nothing.”

  “They’re far from innocent. And they know exactly what they’re doing. As a result, they’re going to pay a steep price. But if you want to blame someone, blame yourself. If you had just told me what I wanted to know, perhaps they all could’ve been shepherded to safety.”

  “Please,” Kudrati pleaded, “they don’t know anything. They are just men I hired to help with this job.”

  “Men you hired to plunder and steal from a specific Chinese boat. Now, tell me again about your relationship with Andrei Orlovsky.”

  “Since you seem to know so much about it, why don’t you tell me?”

  “I’m not here to play games. I need answers, and I need them now.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Kudrati said. “I’m as good as dead after what you’ve done.”

  “There were military weapons on this ship, the kind of weapons that aren’t available except on the black market. And you knew all about them. Who were you going to sell them to? Was this to arm another terrorist plot against the U.S.?”

  “You self-important Americans,” Kudrati said, shaking his head. “You never cease to amaze me in your view of the world. You think you are at the center of everything. Well, I have news for you—you’re not. And this war that’s coming isn’t one that will be waged against you. It’s one that will be waged against everyone everywhere. These allegiances will not be defined by borders.”

  “And yet you seem to have no problem helping these tyrants.”

  Kudrati groaned. “Not you, me, or a thousand nations could stop what these men are doing. There comes a time in a man’s life where he must decide between idealism and self-preservation. And in this situation, there’s only one choice that will keep me alive—and that’s what I prefer.”

  “I haven’t found those two things to be mutually exclusive.”

  “By the time you realize that they are, it will be too late.”

  Hawk grabbed Kudrati by his collar and led him out of the room.

  “If you don’t want to talk with me now, I will have to persuade you in other ways.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Kudrati said. “You’ll never get a word out of me.”

  “If you don’t talk, you’re no good to me.”

  “What are you going to do then? Kill me?”

  Hawk stopped and eyed Kudrati. “You might need to rethink that theory on self-preservation.”

  They resumed their trek through the narrow corridor before ascending to the upper deck. The drone c
ircling overhead provided plenty of incentive for the pirates to speed away from the Chinese freighter with all its weapons. Hawk looked off the port side and saw the U.S.S. The Sullivans churning toward them.

  “Alex?” Hawk asked.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Can you take care of those ships for me? We can’t have those weapons falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Roger that. We can’t have those weapons falling into anyone’s hands.”

  Moments later, two missile strikes from the drone put a fiery end to the pirates’ boats. Hawk waited to see if anyone survived. If they did, he couldn’t see them through the two plumes of smoke rising off the water.

  “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Kudrati said. “Those men had families. They were just trying to survive.”

  Hawk shook his head. “And those men would’ve sold dangerous weapons to killers who would’ve used them to murder other men with families. I live in the gray areas of this world, Mr. Kudrati, and it’s a big place.”

  Before Kudrati could respond, a bullet exploded in his chest. He crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony.

  Hawk knelt next to his captive and put his hand on the bleeding wound.

  “It’s no use,” Kudrati said. “I told you I was good as dead.”

  A few seconds later, Kudrati exhaled his final breath.

  Hawk wanted to stand up and see where the shot came from. There was no other ship around except the U.S.S. The Sullivans.

  “What just happened?” Alex squawked on the coms.

  “Kudrati’s dead from a sniper shot,” Hawk replied.

  “That’s what it looked like, but—how? Who could’ve made that shot? And where did it come from?”

  “I’d love to investigate further,” Hawk said, “However, I’m not too keen on the idea of standing up and searching for the shooter. My first inclination is to assume that it had to come from the deck of your ship.”

  “You think Obsidian has a soldier in its pocket who’s on board?”

  “It’d be foolish not to at least consider that possibility. Obsidian seems to have people everywhere else. Why not the U.S. Navy?”