The Reaper (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 2) Page 16

  Hawk burst into the men’s room and called for Taylor. “Travis? Are you in here?”

  The only sounds were the flushing of toilets, the running of sink water, and the whir of the paper towel dispenser.

  Hawk frantically ran through the room until he locked eyes with the janitor.

  “Oh, it’s you again,” the man said. “And now you’re assaulting people trying to relieve themselves. I’m calling security, buddy. You stay …”

  Hawk stopped listening as he felt a stiff breeze across his face. He turned in the direction of the source and noticed an open window.

  “Was this open before?” Hawk asked the janitor, interrupting his lecture. “Did you see anybody go out this window?”

  The janitor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t see nothin’. Now, would you please stop with your craziness? I’ve got a job to do.”

  Hawk ran over to the window and saw Taylor sprinting away from the market. He almost didn’t notice another man in pursuit.

  “How much did he pay you?” Hawk asked.

  The man shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it’s gonna cost you a pretty penny for the fine you’re about be hit with.”

  “You’re lying,” Hawk said. “And you might have just cost a man his life. Hope it was worth the extra twenty bucks he slipped you—or whatever he gave you.”

  “Fifty,” the man said, raising his chin.

  “You’re cheap,” Hawk said before climbing through the window and joining the pursuit of Taylor on foot.

  Once Hawk hit the ground, he broke into a full sprint. After a few seconds, the man sandwiched between him and Taylor glanced over his shoulder.

  It was Reaper.

  CHAPTER 32

  Seattle, Washington

  HAWK ASSESSED THE SITUATION and determined his best course of action. The primary objective of his original mission was to deliver Travis Taylor safely for an interview with the feds to determine who was orchestrating the attacks on undercover DEA agents. If Reaper killed Taylor, that mission would be a failure. And that was the last thing Hawk wanted.

  As he ran along the street that was parallel to the water, he surveyed the area for something that could give him an opportunity to catch Reaper. After a few seconds, Hawk watched Reaper unholster his weapon and trained it in front of him.

  Hawk cursed his breath as he spied a rental scooter a few meters ahead about to be purchased by a tourist. As soon as the man swiped his card, Hawk rushed in and took control of the vehicle. Seconds later, he was speeding toward Reaper. If he took Reaper out, Taylor would escape, but at least he’d be alive.

  With Hawk navigating along the sidewalk, he slipped up behind Reaper, who was focused on catching Taylor. Hawk bumped into the back of Reaper’s legs, sending him tumbling to the ground. Hawk couldn’t keep his balance and tumbled to a stop as the motorized scooter skidded out from underneath him. Reaper’s weapon slid across the concrete near Hawk. As he reached for it, Reaper tackled him and kicked the gun aside in the process.

  Reaper pinned Hawk to the ground, grinding his shoulders into the asphalt in an alley between two condos.

  “When we were in the Dominican, I warned you that you were making a mistake,” Reaper said.

  Hawk gritted his teeth and tried to break free from Reaper’s grip. But he didn’t budge.

  “What are you doing here?” Hawk asked.

  “I had the same question for you,” said Reaper, his face straining to maintain his control on Hawk.

  “If this is just an assignment for you, you don’t know what you’re dealing with here,” Hawk said.

  “Neither do you—or else you wouldn’t be here. Trust me.”

  Hawk twisted and turned. He could feel Reaper’s grip loosening. “You’re the last person I’m going to trust.”

  Hawk drew in a deep breath before exerting all the strength he had left to lunge upward. When he did, Reaper’s hand slipped, enabling Hawk to roll out of the hold. He scrambled away as fast as he could, but Reaper grabbed Hawk’s leg and yanked him back. In the tussle, he lost his balance, enabling Reaper to roll on top.

  With Hawk lying on his back, Reaper straddled him and delivered a flurry of punches. But Hawk used his forearms to block the blows, limiting their potential damage.

  Hawk wasn’t sure how much longer he could sustain his position without succumbing. He needed to take a chance in order to turn the tables on Reaper.

  As Reaper drew back to deliver another punch, Hawk moved his left hand aside, distracting his opponent. Then Hawk used his right to sock Reaper in the throat. Instinctively, he grabbed for his neck as he gasped for air. Hawk hit Reaper in the chest with both hands, forcing him aside. He remained on his knees as he coughed, trying to catch a full breath.

  Meanwhile, Hawk sprinted for the weapon still lying on the ground about twenty meters away. After getting his hands on it, Hawk turned around and Reaper was gone.

  Hawk scrambled behind a car parked in the back alley, which had more than a dozen vehicles lining the narrow route behind the market.

  “Come on, Doug,” Hawk said. “I know you’re out there. We need to talk. This thing is bigger than you or me. I’m sure I can get the feds to go easy on you if you agree to cooperate.”

  No response.

  “Doug, this isn’t a game. Innocent men are being murdered.”

  A bullet whizzed past Hawk’s head. Judging from the direction of the shot, Hawk figured that Reaper had taken up a position about thirty meters away near a dumpster tucked against the side of a building. There was only one route of escape, which meant he’d be exposed if he attempted to leave.

  “Nobody’s innocent, Hawk,” Reaper shouted. “Not even you.”

  Hawk fired a shot back. “You’re aligning yourself with the wrong people.”

  “No, that’d be you,” Reaper said. “You’re taken in so easily.”

  The two men continued to exchange gunfire as people nearby screamed and fled the scene.

  “Leave Travis Taylor alone,” Hawk said. “It’s foolish to lose your life over trying to end his.”

  “The only fool here is you, thinking you can stop me.”

  Another shot ricocheted off the brick wall behind Hawk.

  In the distance, sirens wailed.

  “Hear that?” Hawk asked. “They’re coming for you. I can promise you that it’ll be much easier if you let me bring you in rather than getting arrested by the cops.”

  More silence.

  “They’re just going to hand you straight over to the feds with no context,” Hawk said.

  “What makes you think you can capture me?”

  “You’re pinned down, almost out of ammo, and this place is about to be crawling with law enforcement. I’d say it’s the bottom of the ninth and you’re down to your last strike—and you’re trailing by a dozen runs.”

  “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”

  As Hawk peered around the corner and prepared to shoot again, he saw a canister spewing thick smoke into the air. He ducked back behind the vehicle and cursed under his breath. After a few seconds, he poked his head around the front fender and strained to see any activity beyond the smoke. He saw what appeared to be Reaper sprinting along the water’s edge toward a dock.

  Hawk stayed low, using parked cars for cover. He eased past the smoke grenade, which was still releasing its contents into the air. Scanning the area, Reaper wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  Then Hawk heard shouting closer to the water.

  A man was shouting before he suddenly stopped and raised his hands in the air. He walked backward on the dock. Hawk raced toward the commotion as a boat roared into the bay.

  Hawk identified the nearest boat that was preparing to dock. He rushed up to the man and told him that he needed the boat to pursue a criminal. The man protested until Hawk brandished his weapon.

  Hawk maneuvered the boat into Elliott Bay and goosed the throttle.

 
CHAPTER 33

  Elliott Bay

  Seattle, Washington

  HAWK SQUINTED AS saltwater spray pelted his face. The Wellcraft Portofino he commandeered had seen better days, but Hawk couldn’t be picky. He bounced across the choppy waters about a hundred meters behind Reaper.

  Hawk checked the gas gauge, unsure of how protracted the chase might be.

  Completely full. Let’s go, Reaper.

  Hawk pulled out his phone and texted Alex, filling her in on the current situation. Then he returned his complete attention to his driving.

  Using the channel markers, Hawk estimated he was narrowing the gap, albeit slowly. Five minutes had elapsed, and Hawk had trimmed about twenty meters from the initial distance between him and Reaper.

  While tracking down Taylor didn’t answer all of Hawk’s questions, it certainly solved one mystery: Travis Taylor wasn’t responsible for the deaths of his former military colleagues. Instead, he was also being hunted. Why remained the question that Hawk needed to know. But as far as priorities went, learning more about The Alliance ranked much higher than this mystery. If Hawk could catch Reaper, it might enable the Magnum Group to root out The Alliance once and for all. For the time being, Reaper remained their best link to the nefarious organization, still shrouded in secrecy, especially who was pulling the strings and why.

  In the distance, Hawk saw two Seattle Harbor Patrol boats with flashing lights speeding toward them in the middle of the bay. Apparently, Reaper noticed it too as he banked west toward Bainbridge Island. Hawk used the opportunity to shorten more distance by plotting a course that would intercept Reaper before he reached shore.

  Hawk checked over his shoulder and noticed that harbor patrol had also adjusted their navigation. Then he saw another patrol boat launch from Eagle Harbor on Bainbridge Island. The extra pursuit vessel forced Reaper to zig northward. Hawk followed suit.

  For the next ten minutes, they traveled toward Whidbey Island, due north of their position. But when another harbor patrol boat emerged heading directly south toward the growing caravan, Reaper seemed to be out of options. He spun his boat around and aimed it straight toward Hawk.

  Setting his jaw and narrowing his eyes, Hawk maintained his course. Less than thirty seconds away, Reaper gave no indication of changing direction. Hawk didn’t flinch, even as his heart rate increased. He wanted to shred Reaper’s boat in half, which he wouldn’t have thought about twice before Alex and John Daniel entered his life. But the survival rate for this game of chicken wasn’t in his favor. If Hawk’s bow was higher than Reaper’s, the odds were in Hawk’s favor, but at the speed they were both traveling, the possibility still existed that he could get seriously injured in any sort of collision. And ultimately, he needed Reaper alive for this mission to be successful.

  Hawk’s gaze fixed on Reaper as they continued to draw nearer to each other. Reaper, who was in a no-win situation, zeroed in on Hawk’s vessel.

  Hawk calculated he had about five seconds to make a decision. He pulled back on the throttle and whipped his boat west, creating an unavoidable broadside for Reaper to hit. Then Hawk dove into the Puget Sound off the front of the bow.

  As he sank, the water’s cold temperatures chilled him to the bone. He spun around to look toward the surface just in time to see Reaper’s boat collide with the Wellcraft Portofino. The two vessels splintered on impact, sending debris all across the water. Hawk watched the fallout before swimming back to the top. He scanned the surface, searching for Reaper.

  Hawk kept his head up as he treaded water, searching for his target. The task wasn’t easy given how much wreckage was floating around him.

  Then Hawk felt a strong tug on his leg. Before he could react, he was dragged under the surface.

  Hawk twisted in the water, struggling to get away from Reaper. As Hawk sank deeper, Reaper scrambled to get his hands around Hawk’s neck. He tried to break Reaper’s grip, ripping at his fingers. But he only squeezed harder, endangering Hawk of blacking out.

  Hawk rolled in the water, putting him closer to the surface. He noticed a piece of shattered fiberglass floating above him. Hawk grabbed it and jammed it into Reaper’s thigh, forcing him to relinquish his grip.

  Hawk shoved Reaper in the chest and kicked furiously to get away from him. When Hawk turned back around, he saw Reaper sinking as blood oozed from the wound in his leg and another in his shoulder. Reaper’s eyes were closed.

  Hawk dove deeper and dragged his foe to the surface. By this point, they were surrounded by Seattle Harbor Patrol boats.

  “This man needs a paramedic,” Hawk said as he glanced at the officers with weapons trained on him. “Please don’t shoot. I’m a federal agent.”

  The officers pulled Reaper and Hawk aboard. He didn’t waste any time checking Reaper’s pulse before performing CPR on him. After a few attempts to resuscitate him, he coughed and sputtered, spitting out water. Hawk helped him sit up.

  “That’s right,” Hawk said. “Take a deep breath. You’re going to be fine.”

  Reaper glared at Hawk. “Why did you—”

  Then Reaper grabbed at the wound on his shoulder and grimaced before closing his eyes and collapsing to the deck again.

  CHAPTER 34

  University Hospital

  Seattle, Washington

  HAWK LEANED BACK in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Reaper was cuffed to his hospital bed just a few feet away, still asleep from the procedure to remove the bullet from his shoulder. The heart monitor beeped almost in sync with the respirator, creating a hypnotic rhythm. Hawk fought the drowsiness brought on by expending so much energy and more than his fair share of adrenaline. He didn’t want to miss Reaper waking up.

  Hawk’s phone buzzed with a call from Alex.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “Alive, thankfully,” Hawk said before recounting the events that led to him sitting in a chair in a hospital.

  “And Taylor?”

  “He’s gone,” Hawk said.

  “You had to choose.”

  “Yeah, but it was easy. Only one man was actively killing innocent people.”

  “I would’ve done the same thing, honey,” she said.

  He sighed. “That doesn’t change the fact that we still have plenty of unanswered questions for Taylor.”

  “He never talked?”

  “I don’t think he ever intended to.”

  “Yet he knew someone was trying to kill him?

  “We did talk about that,” Hawk said. “But he saw his chance to get away and went for it. I would’ve done the same thing, banking on my escort to pursue the real danger.”

  “Did you have any idea that Reaper was following you?” Alex asked.

  “Not a clue. I figured we eluded him when we escaped on horseback.”

  “But he still found you.”

  Hawk rubbed his face with his hand and stared at the floor. “Yeah, somehow he tracked us down. Maybe it was just an educated guess or a stroke of luck. Either way, the result was the same.”

  “So, what’s the plan now?” she asked.

  “Wait for Reaper to wake up, interrogate him, return him to prison. Pretty standard stuff.”

  “Think he’s going to be more helpful this time?”

  “Maybe,” Hawk said. “Time will tell.”

  Alex wished him luck before Hawk ended the call. Once he did, Reaper stirred and took a few seconds to wake up. He opened his eyes and blinked before attempting to sit up in bed.

  “What the—” he said as he looked down at the cuffs tethering him to the bed frame.

  “Good afternoon, old friend,” Hawk said.

  Reaper glowered at Hawk. “Did you do this to me?”

  “The handcuffs or the bullet to the shoulder?” Hawk asked.

  Reaper glanced at the wound on his shoulder. “Guess we’re even now.”

  “You were the better shot,” Hawk said. “When you hit me, the bullet went clean through. I didn’t even require surgery.”

&n
bsp; “A thank you would’ve been nice,” Reaper said.

  “Why didn’t you kill me in North Korea, Mitchell?” Hawk asked. “You had every opportunity to do so but clearly didn’t want to because you missed. And I know you only miss if you want to.”

  Reaper bit his lip and glanced down at the IV port on his arm. He studied the scratches on the back of his hand for a moment before responding.

  “I told you in the Dominican that this is just a job for me,” Reaper said. “I’m getting a paycheck.”

  “There are other ways to get a paycheck, you know.”

  “Killing is what I’m good at. Making people disappear is my specialty. I’m not sure how that would translate over into the real world, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yet I’m still alive. You didn’t make me disappear. How come?”

  Reaper closed his eyes and leaned back on his pillow. “Some bonds can’t be broken, even if they didn’t take years to forge. And contrary to what you might think, I’m not a murderer. I don’t go around killing indiscriminately. I get an assignment then I complete it.”

  “I get that, but what I really want to know is who’s giving you these assignments?”

  “Weren’t you listening a few months ago when I told you that I don’t know who gives these orders? I just know that it’s someone high up in the U.S. military. If truth be told, we’re different sides of the same coin.”

  Hawk shook his head and leaned forward in his chair. “That’s a fantasy of your own making. You’re just trying to justify what you’ve done.”

  “You riding on your moral high horse still, I see.”

  “We’re not that alike, Mitchell. I actually know who my boss is—and there’s accountability there. You? It’s the Wild West with no regard for the law or due process.”

  A nurse knocked on the door and entered the room. She grabbed a chart off the foot of the bed and checked Mitchell’s vitals before quickly exiting.

  “There’s plenty of accountability for me. If I don’t do my job, I get cut loose. And I can promise you that somebody is ticked that I haven’t completed my assignment already.”

  “Do you even know who Travis Taylor is?” Hawk asked.