Extreme Measures (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 20)

us into Nicolo."
Nelson snatched the paper from Hawk’s hand. “Let me see that.”
“Just a standard warrant for search and seizure,” Hawk said. “Any chance the director is back in today after her procedure yesterday?”
“No,” Nelson said as he glared at Hawk. “You still have to go through me today.”
“Actually, that’s not how this works,” Alex said. “You need to escort us inside to Nicolo’s headquarters and let us look around. We’re only bringing this to you as a courtesy.”
Nelson shoved the paper back toward them. “Either of you know about a missing key card?”
“A missing key card?” Hawk asked. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“My security access badge disappeared yesterday about the time you two came to see me.”
Hawk shook his head. “Don’t know anything about it. You’re not accusing us of taking it, are you?”
Nelson sighed. “Never mind. Let me get my things. I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”
Hawk and Alex followed Nelson’s instructions. When he finally appeared, he nodded toward the door.
“Shall we?” he said.
Nelson led them to a golf cart and drove them to the Nicolo warehouse. He flashed his badge at the guard outside, a different man than the one serving on the previous nightshift.
“Good morning, Mr. Nelson,” the man said.
“Morning, Roger,” Nelson replied.
“Here to investigate that break-in from last night?”
Nelson nodded. “Something like that.”
Hawk scanned the area and studied the fleet of Nicolo trucks aligned perfectly in a lot to the right of the building. They were painted dark blue, making the company logo—the white letter N encircled with cityscapes—all the more pronounced. No one was outside.
“Quiet day around here,” Hawk said.
“This is a small outfit,” Nelson said. “Maybe a dozen or so regular employees, though I figured a Homeland Security agent would’ve already done his homework and known that.”
Hawk shrugged. “I expected a little more activity.”
Once inside, a balding man hugging a clipboard greeted them.
“So this is the motley crew you warned me about from Homeland Security, Jim,” he said, wearing a big grin. “They don’t look too threatening to me.”
Nelson shot a scowl at Roger.
“What I meant was, I don’t think we’ll have any problems getting along if they comply with the guidelines of the search on the warrant,” he said.
“Agent Clark,” Alex said as she offered her hand.
The man took it and nodded. “Stanley McClintock,” he said. “I’m the director of operations here.”
“Agent Wells,” Hawk said, completing the introductions.
“Well, if you help us out here, we should be able to get out of your hair in a matter of minutes,” Alex said.
“Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”
“Excellent,” Alex said. “I wish everybody was as compliant as you are.”
The man shrugged. “We’ve got nothing to hide. So, what exactly are you looking for?”
“We need your dispatch logs as well as a list of your outgoing domestic shipments over the past sixty days,” Hawk said.
"That shouldn't be a problem," Stanley said, gesturing toward his office off the main lobby. "Head right in there, and I'll get them printed out for you. We have an incredible logistics software program that tracks everything in real-time, giving us up-to-the-minute reporting on our entire fleet."
“How many trucks do you have?” Alex asked.
“We have twenty here and another forty scattered around various ports on the east coast,” Stanley explained as he sat down at his desk.
Hawk and Alex watched as the middle-aged man took his seat. His fingers began flying all over the keyboard. After a few seconds, he tapped a little beat on the edge of his desk and announced his task complete.
“Now we must wait for the printer to warm up and spit all this information out.”
While they waited, Hawk decided to gather as much intel as he could on Nicolo’s business practices.
“So, you’ve got twenty trucks?” Hawk asked.
“Yep.”
“How come most of them are still here?”
Stanley nodded. “It does seem like a waste to have that many trucks sitting idle on the lots. But our particular niche is either feast or famine when it comes to shipments. We’re either up to our necks around here trying to get product out the door or we’re in the back, shooting the breeze all day. When you need those trucks, you need those trucks.”
“How often do you get containers?” Hawk asked, continuing his covert interrogation.
“At least once a day.”
“And you still have that many trucks sitting around?”
“I know what it looks like, but we aggregate all our products to save cost for our clients. We do a fair amount of economy shipments, which result in loading up trucks slowly over a course of several days before they head out across the west.”
“And when it’s busy?”
“We’re scrambling to find trucks, maybe even bringing in owner-operator trucks to help ease the demand.”
“And it’s a dead time right now?”
Stanley nodded as he handed the papers off the printer to the agents. “We haven’t had a truck go out in over a week. Next week should be different.”
Hawk and Alex scanned the manifest of the latest three truckloads, the most recent one occurring over a week ago just like Stanley said. After perusing the list for a few moments, Hawk nodded.
“Everything look all right?” Stanley asked.
Hawk nodded. “It all looks in order to me.”
“Me, too,” Alex said.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Stanley said. “Especially when you’re like me and run a tight ship.”
Hawk and Alex thanked Stanley and followed Nelson outside.
“Now was that so hard, Mr. Nelson?” Alex asked.
Nelson’s response was nothing more than a short grunt. He didn’t even wait for Hawk to settle all the way into his seat in the golf cart before stomping on the accelerator pedal. Hawk nearly fell out before regaining his balance.
“Simmer down up there,” Hawk said. “We’re not in that big of a hurry.”
“I know it was you two who broke into the Nicolo warehouse last night,” Nelson said. “And when I get proof of it, I’m going to make sure the DHS secretary hears about it and has your badges along with your heads for that stunt.”
“An imagination is