Page 77 of Leading Conviction
His gaze drifted over his teammates, each one in their own respective headspace to get in the zone before the mission, but his eyes landed on Draco. The man had just come out of a coma two and a half months ago. The lifesaving miracle drug the team had stolen from the General had kept Draco alive and quickened the healing process once he woke up. Compared to civilians, he was in tip-top shape, but compared to the caliber necessary for MF7, or even BlackStone Securities, Hawk worried for his safety.
Even though the team had been preparing since that morning and waited until the middle of the night to approach the facility, they had no idea what they were going to be walking into. They’d assessed the blueprints Gail Haynesworth had on her laptop, but without going inside the building themselves, they didn’t know who they were up against. Even with the blueprints, the building was unfinished, so it was unlikely they had the most updated building specs.
“LZ’s clear, no cows. Taking her in,” Phoenix reported over his headset that the pasture they were using as a landing zone was clear.
“Roger that, take us down,” Hawk replied.
Hawk’s mind ran rampant as Phoenix landed the helo about a mile away from the warehouse.
What if this was a trap? What if Hannah was back at the base getting attacked right now?
“Wes?” Hawk asked through his mouthpiece.
Snake normally stayed on base when they had missions. Tonight, though, they were all hands on deck. Callie was instrumental, but what they were about to do was below board and having an FBI agent, even one who only loosely played by the rules, could result in mountains of paperwork. As it was, Hawk would have to plead the fifth and claim he didn’t know what an “FBI liaison” entailed if this mission went sideways.
If it went well, then it wouldn’t matter. No one cared what or how things happened, or whether they were above or below board when the outcome was what everyone wanted. But if shit hit the fan, then they were all boned, including the government, and the feds would turn on them faster than their Little Bird could fly away if they fucked up.
“They’re fine,” Snake replied back, not needing Hawk to elaborate. “Nora just texted me and said Tommy is happily watching SportsCenter and Hannah is doodling.”
“Doodling, huh?” Hawk huffed a laugh.
The woman was majorly talented, one of the best artists he’d ever seen, and it wasn’t just his bias speaking. Her originality and vision were no doubt why she was teacher of the year before she had to go on the run. She might’ve thought it was all a ruse after she was tricked into going to the scholarship fundraiser, but Hawk didn’t think so. Hannah earned that title. So if she was “doodling,” he couldn’t wait to see what masterpiece she’d come up with.
The Little Bird landed with a slight bump, jarring him from his thoughts.
“Let’s hope that’s the roughest part of the night,” Phoenix murmured over the mouthpiece.
“Amen to that,” Jaybird replied. The man was nervous, obsessively checking his gun over and over again.
It’d been a while since he was on a true mission. They were all a little off for their own reasons. Hawk just hoped it didn’t show when it counted.
“Alright, men. Move out, flying wedge formation,” Hawk ordered over his mouthpiece before stepping out of the helicopter.
His team fell into step behind him in aVshape like he’d commanded. Their path to the warehouse was one of the few things they’d been able to map out, and despite the forested North Georgia terrain, it was easy to navigate under the moonlight. The entire crew—him, Draco, Devil, Phoenix, Snake, and Jaybird—traversed the mile from the helicopter with little trouble. They emerged from the tree line to see the abandoned warehouse, the grass around it already growing high from neglect.
Hawk held up his hand, giving the signals to stop and cover their angles. They’d approached the rear of the nearly completed structure. It was on the opposite side of the road and entrance, including where the van had entered. The truck bays lining the back wall were cavernous rectangular holes without doors installed, yawning open with inky darkness. The tall, pale, concrete and steel building was lit by only a few streetlights at the edge of the unfenced shipping yard.
Step after step, Hawk focused on his breathing, making sure every move was deliberate and silent. The BlackStone crew crossed the open concrete lot in pairs, taking care to avoid the hazy lights. Once they got close enough to the warehouse, they prowled flush to the wall until an open doorframe came into Hawk’s vision. He waited a moment, listening in the night for any indicator that someone was out there.
Nothing. Crickets and cicadas droned in the humid night air.
He peered inside the doorway, but without the moonlight to guide them, everything was pitch black. Hawk tapped his night-vision goggles on the top of his helmet to alert his men that they were needed before he secured them over his eyes.
With everything now cast in an eerie—but much more defined—green hue, he checked again through the empty doorway before breaching into the warehouse. The large room was outlined by steel framing, allowing him to see several rooms away.
As if on cue, his men fanned out into the space, preparing for an attack on any side. He kept his gaze directly in front of him as they traveled through the steel-lined corridors and rooms of the vacant warehouse back offices. His goggles bathed the interior in the vivid green filter of the optics, helping him navigate their way to the entrance Vlad had used.
Nora had monitored the gas station camera while the team got ready. More men had shown up, although, how many, she didn’t know. With no other way to prepare, Hawk’s team had at least packed extra ammunition, just in case they were outgunned.
Hawk came upon a partly finished hallway with drywall on each side. At the end of the corridor, a slight glow flickered neon green in his goggles. He slowed to a near halt as he silently led his team toward that open doorway on the right. When he was finally inches away, he peered around the doorjamb.
Several men—including the biggest of them all, Vlad—gathered around an outdoor halogen work light glowing in the center of the large room. Discarded construction materials dotted the area, adding darker and brighter green shadows to Hawk’s goggles.
Hawk remained still until a bout of laughter erupted from the room. He glided to the other side of the door with Jaybird behind him so their team could flank both sides of the entry. He made the signal to watch for his instruction, and his heart pounded as he waited for the perfect moment to breach the room.
First, I’ll shoot the lamp. That way we’ll have the advantage. Then Vlad—
A sharp clap resounded throughout the building, making Hawk duck away from the door. He nearly snapped at one of his men for opening fire until he realized they were taking cover along with him. The light inside the room winked out with the sound of tinkling glass. Russian shouts reverberated back at them and Hawk tightened his grip on his gun but didn’t move from his position.
