“I don’t believe you,” Tyson said.
“Perhaps you should be more careful about how you keep up with your family,” the general said. “You use your computer to check on them quite often. And thanks to you, we know exactly where they live.”
Tyson stood and clenched his fists. He set his jaw and glared at the general, who gave a disinterested glance.
“Don’t you dare threaten my family,” Tyson said with a growl. “I think you saw what I did to your precious Bear.”
The general chuckled and waved dismissively at Tyson. “First of all, I could put a bullet in your head right now if I wanted to and you couldn’t stop me. And nobody would care since you’re already dead.”
The general gestured for Tyson to sit down, but the American didn’t move. With just a glance from the general, his two aides moved toward Tyson, who decided against fighting and took his seat.
“Now, I don’t want to harm your family. I really don’t. I have a family of my own. They’re the most precious people in the world to me, and I’d do anything to keep them safe. And that’s why I expect your full cooperation on the assignment we’re giving you. Based on everything I know about you, keeping your family safe is your top priority, is it not?”
Tyson nodded reluctantly.
“So we have an understanding, right?” the general asked as he held his palms out. “You comply with our little request, and we keep your children safe.”
Tyson sighed. “I understand.”
“Good,” the general said. “Someone will return with all the details later this week. Just be ready to leave whenever we tell you to. And I suggest you start packing now. It’s going to be a long trip.”
The general rose along with his aides, Tyson right behind them. For a moment he considered how he might take all three of them out. But then the idea was gone, buried for good. If the general knew where Tyson’s family was, someone else in the Russian military did too.
I’ll have my revenge.
He ushered them outside without another word and relocked the dozen or so deadbolts before going to bed.
Tyson climbed under the covers and turned the lights off, lying in the dark and staring at the ceiling.
What I’d give for just one more hug from Sheila … and Caleb, too.
CHAPTER 11
Central Siberia
HAWK AWOKE TO THE odor of gasoline and burnt rubber. His shoulder ached and he took a few seconds to orient himself. Shattered glass lay all around him and the SUV’s engine hissed as it idled. After unbuckling his seatbelt, he grabbed his ruck sack and surveyed the damage.
In the front seats, the front windshield was gone, pieces of it covering the two Russians. Both men appeared unconscious with slight scrapes and cuts on their faces. Hawk checked for a pulse to make sure they were alive. Once confirming they were, Hawk went to work.
The vehicle had come to rest on its side against a snowbank, giving him only one option to exit. With the driver’s side resting on the ground, he muscled open the back passenger side door. Then he dragged the driver out and moved him a safe distance away from the car.
When Hawk returned to get the second man, he noticed the car starting to smoke, increasing the urgency to get him out. As Hawk was climbing out, he noticed a fire lapping up the fuel, which was leaking from the tank. He growled as he climbed out and hustled the man away from the danger.
The first man started to regain consciousness, scowling as he watched Hawk pull the second man through the snow.
“What happened?” the man asked in Russian.
Before Hawk could respond, the vehicle exploded, sending debris in every direction. He dove on top of the two men to protect them from the shrapnel, which peppered the snow around them.
Hawk peered through the smoke and noticed the outline of another man walking toward them with purpose. He held a machine gun at his waist. Once he skirted the flaming vehicle, he started spraying bullets, apparently unable to identify where the occupants of the vehicle were.
Meanwhile, Hawk scrambled to get both men behind a berm of snow before setting up to return fire. He pulled out his pistol and eased his head just high enough over the snow to see the man still firing his weapon. Hawk took careful aim and waited for the man to stop shooting for a moment.
As he surveyed the carnage of the wreck, he smiled to himself. Satisfied that he’d completed his task, he turned back toward his car.
That’s when Hawk used two shots to take the man down, one shot to the back of his head and another into his upper back. The man plunged face first into the snow.
A few seconds later, Hawk heard the voice of another man calling for his cohort. Hawk eased along the embankment a few meters to get a better position. The moment the next man stepped into view, Hawk put him down as well with a pair of shots.
While Hawk thought he’d only seen two men in the car tailing his, he waited to be sure. After a couple of minutes when he didn’t see any movement, he eased over the snow and crept toward the men he’d shot. He pocketed their weapons before checking to see if they were dead. The fire from the SUV crackled behind him along with intermittent hissing and secondary explosions. Hawk hustled over to the other car, which was still running. He got inside and drove it over to the two Russians.
Hawk helped the two men into the vehicle. They were more coherent this time, though they were still foggy about all the details.
“You need to see a doctor,” Hawk said in Russian. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”
The man who’d been driving waved dismissively at Hawk. “We have our own doctor. Just take us back to our office.”
“I don’t know where your office is.”
The man pointed down the road in the direction they’d been traveling before the attack. “Just drive that way.”
Hawk put the car in gear and started down the highway. He glanced in the mirror at the fiery scene, dark plumes of smoke still rising from the crash.
“Thank you,” the man from the back said.
Hawk nodded subtly. He wasn’t certain he’d made the right call in saving the men. Whoever they were, they were into something dangerous. And by virtue of association, Hawk might have been at risk as well. But he needed an ally and saving the lives of the two men who’d so generously picked him up was the best way to ingratiate himself to them.
The driver of the SUV, who was now sitting in the passenger side up front with Hawk, turned back toward his comrade and starting talking in hushed tones. Hawk couldn’t make out what they were saying but interrupted them to check for directions.
“Just keep driving,” the man said. “It will be a while.”
The Russians continued their conversation for a few minutes before the driver turned to Hawk.
“Who exactly are you?” the man asked.
Hawk had his cover ready. “Ivan Popova, former Russian military.”
The driver shook his head. “No, I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” Hawk said. “Don’t you believe me after what you just saw? I was a sniper in special forces.”
Hawk kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each passing moment of silence.
Finally, the driver spoke. “Your accent—I can’t quite place it.”
Hawk didn’t miss a beat. “When you travel the world as I have and speak multiple languages, you tend to lose what makes your original accent distinctive.”
“Where have you served?” the other man asked.
“Where haven’t I served is the better question,” Hawk said. “I have been sent on covert missions all over the world and have even spent time undercover in the United States.”