Extreme Measures (A Brady Hawk Novel Book 20)

huddled. Hawk led the guards around another block, giving the other prisoners time to scatter.
Five minutes later, Hawk, having successfully shaken his Russian pursuers, raced back to the van. He hopped inside, panting from all the sprinting he’d just done.
“Let’s go,” he said between breaths.
“Why?” Alex asked. “Are you just going to leave Lopez like that?”
“Dammit. Where is he? He was supposed to come back here.”
“I’ve been watching on the surveillance cameras,” she said. “I saw a bunch of guys sprint out a side gate and fan out. But I haven’t seen them since.”
Hawk took a deep breath before venturing out of the van. He stayed in the shadows as he searched for Lopez. Combing the area, he finally spotted Lopez entering someone’s yard through a side gate three blocks away. Hawk raced after him and found him huddled underneath a garden shed, staring at a locket with Sofía’s picture in it.
“What are you doing?” Hawk whispered. “I told you to go to the van on Calle Abraham Lincoln.”
“I’m sorry,” Lopez said. “I panicked and took a wrong turn and got lost.”
“It’s all right. Just stay close to me. The Russian guards are everywhere now looking for you guys.”
Hawk crouched low as they hustled from shadow to shadow, avoiding two men sweeping the street for the escapees. One block away from the vehicle, Hawk turned to face the prized asset and give him a pep talk.
“You need to run as fast as you can toward that white van over there,” Hawk said. “Entiendes?”
Lopez nodded. “Vamanos.”
Hawk scanned the area one final time before breaking into a sprint. Once they rounded the corner and raced onto Calle Abraham Lincoln, they were only about fifty meters away.
“Get the van ready to roll,” Hawk said. “We’re coming in hot.”
“Roger that,” Alex said.
As Hawk neared the van, he noticed that he didn’t hear footsteps behind him anymore. He glanced over his shoulder and then skidded to a stop. Lopez was scrambling around on all fours, groping at the ground.
“What are you doing?” Hawk asked as he rushed up to the Bolivian asset.
“Sofía’s locket. The latch broke when it snagged on the fence. Please, I can’t leave without it.”
“She’ll forgive you,” Hawk said. “You’re going to get recaptured if you don’t hurry up. We don’t have much time.”
“Okay, okay,” Lopez said, hopping to his feet. “I’ll leave it.”
Before either of them could take another step, bullets whistled in their directions, peppering the ground. One of the shots hit Lopez in the back, dropping him face-first onto the pavement.
Hawk hit the deck and turned toward the asset. “Lopez? Lopez? Are you all right?”
Lopez moaned and rolled over, dirt mixing with blood to create a mess. “There’s a key hidden in the wheel well of my car. It will give you access to all the information I was gathering.”
He stopped and gasped for air, spitting blood as his lips trembled. “Tell Sofía I love her.”
Hawk trained his weapon in the direction of the guards and fired off a few shots.
“Get up, Lopez,” Hawk said. “I’m not letting you die right here like this.”
“Save yourself,” Lopez said. “And don’t let these bastards get away with anything else.”
Lopez collapsed, his body going limp.
Hawk cursed under his breath as he noticed the locket just a few feet in front of Lopez. Hawk pocketed the jewelry and then fired several more shots. He scrambled to his feet and raced toward the van.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Hawk said over his coms while dodging bullets from the Russian guards still in pursuit.
Before the door was even shut, Alex had turned the corner. The wheels squealed as bullets pinged off the side of the van.
“So much for our deposit,” Alex said. “What happened back there?”
“This happened,” Hawk said, holding up the locket. “Lopez dropped it and had to go after it. And when he did, that’s when he took one in the back.”
“Damn,” she said. “What a shame.”
“At least he didn’t die in vain.”
“You got something from him?”
Hawk nodded. “He told me he left a key that would lead to all the information he’d gathered on whatever was going on at Nicolo Logistics.”
“Then, let’s go straight there.”
Hawk called the agent who’d been handling Lopez to deliver the news. The man gave Hawk directions to Lopez’s apartment as well as a description of his car, a Chevy Onix, and the license plate number.
“What kind of car is that?” Hawk asked.
“A junky little sub-compact that everybody here drives because that’s all they can afford.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Trust me. You’ll know it when you see it. He usually parked on the level just above the bottom.”
A half-hour later, Hawk and Alex were standing next to Lopez’s car, feeling around the wheel well for the key. Alex found it, pumping her fist exuberantly as she held up the magnetized box. She opened it and studied the key, reading the name engraved on the end.
“Looks like we’re going to the train station,” she said.
After they arrived at the train station, Hawk hustled inside and emptied the locker. He carted the contents back to the car. When they arrived at their hotel, Alex said she wasn’t going to sleep until she sifted through everything. And she didn’t need long to declare the mission a success.
She handed a diary to Hawk that was full of pencil sketches. “Read this.”
Hawk drew back as he skimmed the pages. “What did we just walk into?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But this is absolutely terrifying.”

CHAPTER 2
Washington, D.C.
J.D. BLUNT INSPECTED his unlit cigar before putting it in his mouth and biting down. He ambled up to the White House security checkpoint and presented his credentials. The guard waved his wand around Blunt’s body while casting furtive glances at his stogie.
“Just so you know, there’s a no-smoking policy in the White House,” the man said.
“Good thing I don’t smoke,” Blunt said with a wry smile and a wink.
The man gestured for Blunt to enter the gates. The Phoenix Foundation director complied, grabbing