FRIDAY FIRST: The Deadly Alchemist

On Friday, January 27th, The Deadly Alchemist goes live … and I can’t wait for you to read this one. It’s the seventh book in The Phoenix Chronicles as we join Hawk and Alex on one of their most dangerous missions yet. Here’s the first chapter … enjoy!

THE DEADLY ALCHEIMST

Chapter One

Black Forest | Germany

Brady Hawk mopped his brow and then glanced down at a picture of the target. With a full moon overhead, he didn’t need to use his flashlight. Hawk raised his binoculars and peered through them at the small farmhouse nestled into a hill deep in the heart of the Black Forest. A single light lit the kitchen, where a man in a white tank top sat at a table devouring a bowl of soup as he read a book. After a grueling hike, Hawk had found Burt Painter.

“Take a look,” Hawk said as he handed the binoculars to Alex.

His wife and partner at the Magnum Group nodded in agreement. “That’s him alright. That tattoo on his left bicep is distinct.”

Hawk took the binoculars back one last time to confirm. The red dragon with a bow drawn was unusual, but it was the Latin phrase “Ad honorem et gloriam” etched beneath the art that ensured they’d found their man.

Hawk slung his rucksack over his back and stood. “Ready?”

Alex nodded. “Let’s find out what this bastard knows.”

The pair worked their way closer to the house, careful to avoid the floodlight sensors. After a couple of minutes, they split up to take their positions—Hawk at the back and Alex at the front. He listened for the broken glass and then waited for the flash bang to go off. The moment it did, he kicked in the back door and was met by Painter charging toward the exit. Hawk dropped low and then launched upward, driving his shoulder into Painter’s chest and knocking him backward.

Painter landed on his back and groaned as he looked up at Hawk.

“I don’t know what you want, but I don’t know anything,” Painter said, raising his hands in the air in submission.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Hawk said. “Anyone participating in a quiet coup to take over the most powerful country in the world doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt. I’ll be the one to decide if you don’t know anything.”

Painter bit his lip and shook his head slowly. “Look, I’m not bothering anyone all the way out here. There’s no need for this heavy-handed approach. I don’t even have access to the internet. I’ll answer your questions if you promise to leave me alone.”

Alex joined Hawk. “So, in less than a minute you’ve gone from ‘I don’t know anything’ to ‘I’ll answer all your questions.’ Sounds like maybe you know quite a bit.”

Hawk gestured toward the kitchen with his gun.

Painter eased to his feet and kept both hands in the air until he sat down at the kitchen table.

“I don’t know how you found me,” Painter said, “but I can assure you that you just went through a lot of trouble all for nothing.”

Hawk dug a folder out of his rucksack and tossed it down on the table. He spun a chair around so that he was facing the back of it before he straddled it and sat.

“Look, I—I think you must have me mistaken for someone else,” Painter said.

Hawk licked his thumb before opening the folder and then leafing through the pages of several documents found inside. He picked one page out and held it up so Painter could see it.

“That’s not you?” Hawk asked. “Because it sure as hell looks like you.”

Painter squinted as he studied the image on the page. “I guess that’s probably me.”

“That’s you meeting with several members of The Alliance in a top-secret meeting among high-level operatives,” Alex said, joining the interrogation with her weapon still trained on him.

“I mean, that’s me, but I don’t remember meeting with those people,” Painter said.

“How convenient,” Hawk said. “I thought you just told me that you would answer all our questions.”

“Technically, I did answer the question,” Painter said. “I—I don’t remember it.”

Hawk sighed and continued to sift through the documents about Painter’s sordid past as a double agent working for the CIA. Painter had been involved in helping the CIA overthrow two elections in South America. According to the dossier, Painter was recruited in Bogota to help with The Alliance. He’d used his skills as a trained assassin to kill several key military officials who were working to uncover the identities of those involved in The Alliance. And of the seventy-five names who were uncovered as affiliated with The Alliance, Painter was one of a handful that escaped the initial sweep from the FBI and CIA’s joint task force—until now.

Hawk eased across the table a picture of a man who’d been shot twice in the head. “You remember killing Ron Maize?”

Painter leaned forward to look at the picture. “I can’t recall ever seeing this man, let alone killing him. But, if you know a lot about me, Mr.—”

“My name’s not important,” Hawk said. “But nice try.”

“Okay, but if you know a lot about me, you know I’ve killed plenty of people while working for the agency. That’s not the case anymore since I’ve retired and moved all the way out here.”

“You know you can’t outrun your past?” Hawk asked.

“I have nothing to run from. I did what I did in the service of my country.”

“That’s odd,” Alex said. “You do all these things for your country, but when you finish serving it, you leave to live in the middle of the Black Forest.”

Painter drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. “What can I say? I came here on a couple of assignments and fell in love with the country.”

“That’s a nice story, Mr. Painter,” Hawk said. “But I’m not buying it.”

“Whatever,” Painter said. “You can choose to believe me or not. I can’t be any clearer when I say that I’m not affiliated with The Alliance, though I am familiar with the organization.”

“Very familiar, according to all the documentation we have of you interacting with them,” Alex said.

Hawk noticed Painter’s hand trembling. “Are you okay? Seems like you’re a little nervous.”

Painter shook his head. “I’ve got a medical condition that’s left me like this. In fact, it’s time for me to take my last pill before I got to bed. Would you mind?”

Painter nodded toward a small container of pills on the kitchen counter. Alex grabbed it and tossed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said. “But I also need water.”

Alex scowled. “Where are your glasses?”

“They’re—here, just let me get them,” he said.

Alex backed away from the kitchen but kept her weapon trained on him.

“Don’t get cute,” Hawk said. “She’s a pretty good shot. The last guy who tested her hit the ground with a bullet hole through his head where his right eye used to be.”

“No need for all that,” Painter said as he retrieved a glass and filled it with water from the faucet. “I hope you’ve taken into account that I’m being cooperative.”

As Painter eased back to his chair at the kitchen table, Hawk noticed his captive eyeing the wall.

“What’s so interesting behind me?” Hawk asked.

“Nothing. I just thought I saw a flash outside,” Painter said. “It’s probably nothing.”

“You sure you weren’t sizing up the weapons on the wall?” Hawk asked, referring to the display of crossed axes and a pair of medieval-era shields.

“Oh, that?” Painter said with a chuckle as he pointed at the display. “I have an affinity for knights and castles, also another reason I retired to the Black Forest.”

“Well, there’s no knight about to ride up and save you, Mr. Painter,” said Hawk, who noted the same Red Dragon emblem embossed on the head of the axes. “So, I suggest you start being more cooperative and forthcoming about your involvement with The Alliance.”

“How can I be more forthcoming when I don’t know people associated with that organization? Do you want me to lie?”

“Actually, the truth would be a good place to start,” Alex said.

Painter grinned. “The truth is that you made a big mistake in coming here. Oh, and—you’re about to die, compliments of the order of the Red Dragon.”

Seconds later, Hawk heard the roar of a truck approaching the house. Before he could react, gunfire rained down on them, bullets ripping through the wooden siding and pinging all over the kitchen. He dove to the floor as shattered glass tinkled around him.

“Alex! You okay?” Hawk shouted, his head still buried.

“Doing fine,” she answered from across the room. “You?”

“Never been better.”

Hawk noticed Painter’s feet remained firmly planted beneath the table.

Did the American assassin summon these men? Or was this The Alliance remnant cleaning up its mess?

Hawk couldn’t be sure, but he quit pondering the how and the why a group was attacking them from outside when he noticed Painter’s feet move quickly. By the time Hawk slid out from underneath the table, he saw Painter clutching one of the axes and rushing toward Alex.

Hawk pumped six shots into Painter. He collapsed to the ground, falling on the axe’s blade and ending any chance that Hawk would get any meaningful answers. Not that Hawk cared in the moment. There was a line where protecting your partner was more important than completing the mission, especially when your partner is your wife and the target is about to hack her with an axe.

Hawk wormed along the floor to Alex, who had her weapon trained in front of her.

“Easy,” he said. “I took care of him.”

Alex craned her neck around the corner to see Painter’s dead body. “With an axe? Really?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Hawk said. “But we need to get the hell outta here.”

“Lead the way.”

“We need a distraction first,” Hawk said. “I’m not about to lead us into an ambush.”

“Got any grenades?”

Hawk dug into his rucksack and produced a pair of them. He kissed one of them and smiled. “Never leave home without them.”

They discussed their plan and wasted no time springing into action. Hawk stayed low as he hustled to the second floor. After sneaking up to a window facing the front of the house, he unlocked it and pushed it open. Then he launched both grenades in succession before hustling back downstairs. The two explosions sent the men scurrying, silencing their guns for a moment.

Hawk peeked out the back door and saw one man left to guard the back exit.

“Just one?” Alex asked.

Hawk nodded.

“Amateurs,” she said. “I’ll take him.”

Hawk watched her take aim before squeezing the trigger.

“Coast is clear,” she announced.

“Let’s roll.”

They raced outside, sprinting deep into the woods. As they ran, Hawk heard the men resume their firing on the farmhouse.

“Don’t stop,” Hawk said.

After ten minutes, they stopped by a creek. Hawk strained to hear, but the night was quiet again.

“Who were those guys?” she asked. “And how’d they know he was in trouble?”

“Two questions I don’t know the answers to,” Hawk said. “And unfortunately, I’ve now got more questions than I had before we got here, starting with the order of the Red Dragon. You ever heard of them?”

Alex shook her head. “It’s new to me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about trying to shut down The Alliance, it’s that they’re as ruthless as they are unpredictable.”

“Let’s get home,” he said. “We need to get this thing figured out fast.”

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