Chapter 7: The Border Gambit
Austrian-Czech Border – 02:45 Hours
The road stretched ahead, deserted and shrouded in darkness. Hawke kept his eyes on the horizon, the dim glow of distant border lights reflecting off the damp asphalt.
The stolen gray hatchback blended into the night, but they both knew it wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny. Their pursuers were closing in, and the moment they hit a border checkpoint, every agency in Europe would have their descriptions.
They had to cross unseen.
Nadia studied the map on her phone. “There’s a smuggler’s route about four kilometers west of the main crossing. Rough terrain, but no checkpoints.”
Hawke nodded. “That’s our way in.”
He veered off the main road, turning onto a narrow, unmarked trail leading toward the tree line. Time was running out.
No Way Back
The hatchback bounced violently over uneven ground before Hawke killed the engine.
“We walk from here.”
They stepped out, the cold night air biting at them. Silence. No sirens, no approaching vehicles. But that didn’t mean they weren’t being tracked.
Hawke motioned for Nadia to move. “Stay low, keep to the trees.”
They slipped into the forest, their boots crunching against damp leaves. The smuggler’s route was rumored to be used by traffickers and black-market couriers—dangerous, but far better than the alternative.
As they pushed deeper, Nadia whispered, “What’s the plan after we cross?”
“Prague,” Hawke said. “Bishop has an exfil waiting. If we make it that far.”
Nadia exhaled. “No pressure.”
The Hunters Close In
Twenty minutes into their trek, Hawke’s instincts flared. He halted, motioning for Nadia to stop.
Then—the sound of footsteps.
Not theirs.
Someone else was here.
Nadia’s hand went to her sidearm. Hawke gestured for her to stay still. He scanned the treetops—infrared drones, maybe? No hum of rotors. That meant boots on the ground.
Then he saw them.
Three figures moving through the trees, scanning the area with night-vision scopes.
Not border patrol.
This was Keaton’s team.
Nadia leaned in. “We double back?”
Hawke shook his head. “Too late. We move—fast and quiet.”
They adjusted course, weaving through the trees. But the agents were sweeping in a pattern, closing off their escape.
Nadia glanced back. “They’re herding us.”
Hawke gritted his teeth. They needed an opening.
Then, a voice cut through the silence.
“Hawke!”
They froze.
One of the agents stepped forward. Gun drawn.
“Drop your weapons. We don’t need to make this messy.”
Hawke’s mind raced. Options.
They were outnumbered, but their position in the forest gave them one advantage—cover.
Hawke whispered, “On my mark, go left.”
Nadia nodded.
Then, in a single motion—
Hawke fired.
The agent dove for cover as the shot rang out.
Nadia bolted left, disappearing into the trees. Hawke followed, keeping low as bullets tore through branches above him.
The forest exploded with movement—agents shouting, gunfire cracking through the night.
Hawke and Nadia sprinted toward the border fence—a rusted, five-meter-high barrier covered in razor wire.
“Fence ahead!” Nadia yelled.
Hawke reached into his pack, pulling out a climbing rope with a hook.
One shot.
The hook latched onto the top of the fence.
“Go!” Hawke ordered.
Nadia grabbed the rope and climbed fast. Hawke covered her, firing into the darkness.
She reached the top, flipping over to the other side. Hawke followed, seconds before another shot ripped past him.
He landed hard on the Czech side of the border.
No time to rest.
They ran.
Prague Awaits
The sound of their pursuers faded as they pushed deeper into Czech territory.
Hawke tapped his earpiece. “Bishop, we’re in.”
A moment’s silence. Then—
“Understood. Safehouse in Prague. I’ll send coordinates.”
Hawke nodded. “We’re on our way.”
Nadia exhaled, hands on her knees. “That was close.”
Hawke’s expression hardened. “It’s not over yet.”
They had crossed a border.
Now they had to disappear.
