Extreme Measures (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 20)

a terrible thing to waste,” Alex said.
A few moments later, Nelson skidded to a hard stop, whipping Hawk and Alex back and forth.
“Good day, you two,” Nelson said before standing up and storming back inside.
“He’s a real peach,” Alex said.
“Forget about him for a minute,” Hawk said. “Did anything jump out to you on the manifest?”
She nodded. “The fact that they haven’t sent a shipment out in over a week.”
“Same here. But I don’t believe it.”
“How are we gonna prove otherwise?” she asked.
“I bet you if we ask nicely, one of the men who authorizes the trucks to leave might be able to confirm our hunch.”
She shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, and it’d be quicker than getting another court order from Blunt.”
“Would you like the honors?”
Alex rubbed her hands together. “Would I ever. Now, let me conjure up some of my charm.”
The security office situated near the main entrance buzzed with activity as a line of semis stretched ten deep near the exit. Alex and Hawk entered the building while workers hustled back and forth carrying clipboards and walkie-talkies. They radioed information to a central dispatch unit that granted approval for each shipment to leave the premises.
Alex waited until the woman at the front desk got off the phone before making her inquiry.
“Is there any chance we could speak with a supervisor?” Alex asked. “We’re with the—”
The woman worked over a piece of gum and rolled her eyes. “Miss, can you see we’re kind of busy at the moment? Now isn’t exactly a good time.”
A man strolled into the lobby and turned his attention toward Alex.
“I’ll help them, Camille,” he said. “What do you need?”
Alex smiled. “We’re with the Department of Homeland Security, and we were hoping to speak with someone regarding a shipment that possibly left here in the past week.”
“We see hundreds of trucks leave this port in a given week. Any one specifically to help us narrow it down?”
“To be precise, we’re looking for a shipment from Nicolo.”
“They’re a small carrier, but come with me, and I’ll see what we can find.” He offered his hand. “Bill Winston.”
Hawk and Alex introduced themselves and followed him back to his office. They stood over his shoulder as he sifted through an entry log.
“Within the last week, you say?” Winston asked.
“That’s right,” Alex said.
“Their trucks are hard to miss since their paint job really stands out. Did you already ask them about it?”
“We did our due diligence, but we weren’t exactly welcomed in,” Hawk said.
“They are a bit strange, but I find that’s common with a lot of our importers who have headquarters overseas. Now, let me see here.”
Winston’s index finger drifted down the screen as he scanned the information.
“Anything?” Alex asked.
"Ah-ha," he said. "Found it. There's one that left just two days ago."
“Two days ago?” she asked as she turned toward Hawk.
“That’s right. Let me print out all the details for you.”
“Can you tell what the destination is?” Hawk asked.
“They ship all over the place, but we don’t require that information.”
The printer in the corner of his office came to life and spit out a couple of sheets of paper. Winston snatched them up and handed them over to Alex.
“Anything else I can help you with?” Winston asked.
“You’ve been more than helpful, which is more than I can say for Mr. Nelson.”
Winston shook his head. “That guy’s always got a stick up his ass about something.”
They thanked him again and left.
After getting back into their car, Alex placed a call to one of her contacts at the NSA and relayed all the pertinent information about the truck. A few minutes later, Alex received a phone call. When she hung up, Hawk was eager to learn more.
“Well,” Hawk said, “what did you find out?”
“Interstate cameras just caught them going through a weigh station in El Paso on I-10 heading east.”
Hawk wheeled the car around and headed straight toward the airport. “We need to get to Texas.”

CHAPTER 12
Newport, Rhode Island
OLIVIA YOUNG CINCHED the sail taut before surveying the deck of the sailboat. She blew a blonde tendril out of her face and sighed. Her back ached, and for the first time, she wondered why she'd been so stubborn about trying to make it without the use of her father's last name. She applied for the job using an alias and committed to wearing a baseball cap low across her forehead to disguise her face as much as possible.
“Liv, hurry up and get the deck cleaned,” her boss yelled. “I’m ready to get home.”
She snagged a bucket off the dock and dipped the end of the brush into the cleaning solution. When she considered her options for summer work, cleaning up wasn’t part of how she imagined her day going. Helping sail the boat and treat clients with a smile? Most definitely. But compared to the other crew members, she found herself stuck with the worst assignments more often than not. It’d been a week since she’d left the office to do anything other than prepare the boat for the following day.
This isn’t what I signed up for.
When she finished scrubbing, she collected all her tools and trudged back toward the office.
“Liv, are you all right?” asked Penny, one of Olivia’s co-workers.
“I guess so,” Olivia said.
"Your mouth is saying one thing, but your face is saying another."
“Look, at the risk of sounding like a spoiled brat, this isn’t what I came here to do. I wanted to get some more experience out on the water, not stuck behind a desk.”
Penny chuckled. “Rob can be a bit of a tyrant at times, but if you need a break, just ask him.”
“He’s not going to let me take off,” Olivia said. “We’ve got the Fourth coming up, and we’re slammed with bookings.”
“Have you looked at the schedule for next week?”
Olivia shook her head.
“It’s rather barren by this company’s standards. And I doubt we’re going to have a sudden surge of requests. Just ask Rob and see what he