Chapter Two
As he felt the cold metal of the weapon, he realized the vivid sound that woke him wasn’t from an actual bullet leaving the chamber of a gun but a vibrational memory. A recurring dream that a therapist would have a field day unpacking if he was still mandated to see them.
Hawk rested his forehead on the side of his mattress and willed his rapid pulse to slow the fuck down.
He wasn’t in the jungles of Guatemala, sweltering from the oppressive heat and humidity. The third-world electrical grid could barely keep up with the lights and fans, let alone air-conditioning. At least not in the accommodations Hawk found himself in most of the time.
The digital clock said it was four fifty in the morning.
There was no point in crawling back into bed to try and catch another hour of rest.
It wouldn’t happen.
Reclaiming sleep wasn’t possible if he woke from a memory. He refused to call his waking dreams nightmares. A nightmare was something real, happening ... and inescapable. Dreams were nothing but emotion-stirring images in your head that shifted the second you opened your eyes.
After picking himself off the floor, he padded naked into his bathroom and straight to the toilet.
Twenty minutes later, his hair still wet from the shower, Hawk stood in his tiny apartment kitchen, waiting for the coffeepot to do its thing.
He scrolled through the morning headlines on his phone.
Starting with news out of DC, he skimmed the articles, his eyes catching the keywords he’d been trained to notice.
Satisfied there wasn’t anything worth his time or concern, he moved on to more global coverage.
By then, the coffee had percolated enough to pour the robust burst of sunshine into a cup.
The first taste of java hit his throat with a sigh.
He dug past the infamous articles regarding the latest pop superstar and her football boyfriend before finding news with more meat.
Ukraine and Russia were still at war.
Ukraine was asking Washington for more funds.
The fight about the border was still a shit show, and Congress and the House were doing what they did best. Sitting on their asses doing nothing but pissing off the American people on both sides of the aisle.
But hey, at least the pop star was getting more kids to the voting polls.
In short, nothing had changed while Hawk was asleep.
Hawk tossed his phone onto the table, wondering if he’d ever break the habit of checking the news. Hearing about all the things he had absolutely no control over and could do nothing about. Reading the morning news had been an occupational hazard.
Literally.
Not anymore, he reminded himself. Which was probably why he hadn’t done anything to break the habit.
Thirty minutes later, right as Hawk turned into the parking lot of his gym, his phone started to ring.
The name of the caller flashed on the information screen.
It was his boss.
Well, his boss and his friend.
“Yeah,” Hawk said when he answered the call.
“Good, you’re up.”
“It’s after six.” Hawk couldn’t remember when he’d slept past six in the morning.
Ed Vargas scoffed and dove right in. “I need you to run point tonight for the Bakshai reception.”
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” This was the first time Hawk heard the name.
“Nasser Bakshai is receiving his father, Ashraf Bakshai, at John Wayne at three thirty this afternoon. They’re first going to the son’s estate in Brentwood, and then they’re expected at a restaurant at eight.”
Hawk pulled into a parking spot and sat with the engine idling. “That sounds like one driver, two clients.” Running point meant three or more guards, with the point man calling the shots.
“I have five of you on this. Three visible, two on the sidelines. A point car and a decoy.” Which translated into three in suits and two other bodyguards disguised as waiters or other patrons.
“Who is this guy?” Decoy cars were often saved for super-high-profile clients that had incurred literal threats.
“Big oil. The son’s trying to make an impression on his father with overkill security. I’ll email the details on the men and locations.”
“How long is the assignment?”
“Dad leaves in forty-eight hours. After the reception, there will only be three of you. Two of you alert at all times.”
Which meant one of them would try and catch some sleep in the back of one of the cars while the others tried to stay awake on an overnight assignment.
“Sounds good.” They ended the call.
A forty-eight-hour assignment suggested that Hawk attempt to catch some sleep before it began.
He laughed at the thought as he stepped out of the SUV, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.
The lovers’ holiday only lingered in the break room. Picked-through boxes of chocolates and exactly three long-stem roses in a vase were all that was left.
A cup of coffee in hand, Alex made her way back to her office, saying good morning to anyone who looked her way. It was early, a good fifteen minutes before the official start of the workday, so there weren’t that many faces to smile back at.
Dee was tucking her purse in a drawer when Alex approached.
“Good morning,” Alex said.
The tiny, unassuming woman straightened her back, met Alex’s gaze briefly, and looked away nearly as fast. “Good morning, Ms. Stone.”
Alex had long since stopped suggesting that Dee address her as Alex. Dee resisted the familiarity almost as much as she resisted eye contact.
“Once you’re settled, let’s go over the calendar for the day.”
“Of course.” No eye contact, just a nod.
Alex had no sooner sat behind her desk than Dee was walking through the door.
“Please close it behind you.” Alex didn’t want any passersby to be privy to the board meeting agenda before Alex and Chase were ready to announce it.
The first twenty minutes of their morning meeting was a rundown of expected calls and meetings Alex had scheduled. Then there was Dee’s priority list, which instantly shifted when Alex expressed her needs.
“I need you to uncover the board meeting minutes at the time of the Casa Noel acquisition. I need to know how the votes went on the board and who had the most to say about the chain. And I need you to be quiet about it.”
“Quiet?” Dee asked.
“Don’t tell anyone else in the office what you’re doing. If anyone asks, direct them to me. The agenda at the next board meeting needs to start with the impending sale or liquidation of the Casa Noel Properties, with an immediate closing of ten percent of the hotels.”
Dee looked up from her laptop, where she was typing her notes.
Her fingers stopped moving. “Layoffs?”
Alex couldn’t pretend that the layoffs were temporary. “We’ll call them that. Schedule a meeting with Shelby in Mergers and Acquisitions for Tuesday. By then, I should have everything I need to tell him how to proceed after the board meeting.”
Dee wasn’t typing.
When Alex glanced up, she saw Dee blink twice. Her eyes lingered on Alex’s before she gave her head a little shake and went back to typing. “Max will have an outline of Stone Holdings’ shipping distribution center in Kansas to add to the agenda. I need a search on that leg as well.”
“Mr. Smith?” Dee asked, clarifying.
“Yes.”
“Will he be at the meeting?”
“Possibly. If he is, we won’t announce it ahead of time. The media has finally calmed down, we’d like to keep it that way.”
Max Smith was Alex and Chase’s half brother. A man no one knew existed until after Aaron Stone, their father, died. An illegitimate son born from a torrid affair while Alex’s father was still married to her mother wasn’t someone Aaron boasted about.
Alex and Chase were informed of their brother’s existence at the reading of their father’s will.
Because their father had left Max with his mother and didn’t keep in contact with his lover, no one knew where Max was.
At the age of two, Max’s mother abandoned her son to the foster care system and completely disappeared.
All the while, the woman collected the child support Aaron Stone provided through a matrix of mail forwarding and secret bank accounts.
Still, in Aaron’s death, the man did, in fact, acknowledge his son by way of an inheritance. One-third of everything.
It took half a year to find their brother. Once word was out that an orphan became an unknowing overnight billionaire, the media went wild.
Max was ill prepared for what followed and initially limped along with his new identity. He went from a completely blue-collar life to the executive floor of a multibillion-dollar company.
Now, he really was transitioning to his new life with surprising ease. He’d taken on traveling to and assessing the companies on the chopping block of Stone Enterprises.
The actual running of Stone Enterprises, and voting on the board, he left for Alex and Chase. Therefore, Max’s presence at the board meetings wasn’t expected. But the door was always open for him to attend.
“Everything about Casa Noel and Stone Holdings I need you to handle directly, do not farm it out to anyone, especially your temp. We don’t need the rumor mill to reach the board members before we talk to them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Alex shivered. “ Ma’am. ” Made her skin crawl. It made her sound as old as she felt. The need to correct Dee and force the woman to call her Alex, or at minimum, Ms. Stone, was like acid rising in her stomach.
Alex swallowed it down.
She was being petty and insecure. Two things Alex refused to be.
“I think that’s it.” Alex glanced at the time. She had eight minutes until her first call.
Dee closed her laptop and stood.
The fluorescent lights in the room flickered several times as if the power was attempting to go out.
Alex’s computer started to beep, indicating the battery backup was about to click on, only the power didn’t go completely out.
Alex hesitated and found herself looking up at the ceiling and then around the room.
Dee also stood in what looked like suspended animation.