Buzz!
2:30 PM.
The flight from New York landed safely at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Washington, D.C.
Half an hour later,Hawk, lightly packed, emerged from the airport and approached a taxi.
He opened the back door and climbed in.
He told the young black man in the driver's seat, who was looking over his shoulder, that he was heading to a motel in Quantico.
The young black driver nodded, started the odometer, and then stepped on the accelerator, pulling away from the airport.
While the Marine Corps base and the FBI academy were both located in Quantico, that didn't mean ordinary people couldn't get there.
They simply couldn't freely enter the military-controlled area.
However, Quantico itself, the perimeter of the base, remained open.
Any self-disciplined person possesses extraordinary drive, let alone someone like Hawk, who had practiced 10,000 punches daily for a thousand consecutive days.
Hawk's drive was unprecedented.
He had just left the Osborne BioIndustry Building that morning and, by noon, had rushed to the airport to buy the fastest flight to Washington.
Hawke hadn't even gone home to get a change of clothes.
Luckily, he'd spent the previous night studying satellite maps of Quantico and had a rough idea of what he'd need to do if he wanted to retrieve his Gammanion.
Otherwise, Hawke, fresh off the plane, would have been like a headless fly, not knowing where to go.
"Plan A."
"If we can get in quietly, we'll do it quietly."
"But if we're discovered, we'll just switch to Plan B."
"Quick victory!"
Hawke pondered once more in the back seat of the taxi, then regained his composure and turned to gaze out the window at the scenery.
And then…
Hawke glanced calmly at the young man driving ahead, and pulled his phone from his pocket, having forgotten to turn it on after the flight.
It powered on quickly,and the ding-dong sound of a text message came in.
Hawke raised an eyebrow, and just as he was about to unlock his car to see what spam the carrier had sent him, a deep voice echoed from inside the car, accompanied by a pitch-black gun barrel pointed at him.
"Hold still. Give me your phone."
"..."
Hawke fell silent.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I supposed to do?
No.
I'm going to Quantico to rob people, and how come I'm getting robbed just after landing, before even reaching Quantico?
Damn!
It's still D.C., after all. Is the security worse than New York City?
In an instant,Hawke's impression of Washington, D.C. plummeted to the bottom of the ice.
Blackie, who was driving, peered through the rearview mirror at Hawke, who seemed stunned in the backseat, and spoke in a deep voice, the pitch-black gun barrel swung, "Hold still. Give me your phone."
Hawke snapped back to his senses.
"Do you want me to stay still, or do you want me to give you my phone?"
"..."
Blackie was silent for a moment after hearing this.
The next second,his defenses seemed to break.
"Fuck you, stop talking nonsense and put your phone away..."
"Ding-ling-ling!"
Just as Blackie was about to shout, a call rang from Hawke's phone.
It was Gwen's.
Hawke blinked at the only number saved in his phone's address book.
He only had one number saved on his phone.
As he had said before, there was no need to unplug his phone because he didn't need to call anyone, and no one would call him.
Uh...
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Except for Gwen.
Hawke looked at Gwen's call, answered it directly, and then put it to his ear.
"Hello..."
"..."
Young Blackie's defense was broken.
He looked through the rearview mirror and saw Hawke ignoring his "equality device" and answering the call without hesitation or even a pretense.
His defense was completely broken.
The next second.
Blackie suddenly braked, braked directly, and then swung his body on the seat and leaned back.
"Fuck, I..."
"Bang!" "
Ah!" "
..."
On the other end of the phone, Gwen, who was just about to speak, suddenly blinked when she heard the scream that seemed to come from Hawke.
"Is someone screaming, Hawke?"
"...Yeah, a guy passing by just put on a movie. Probably some violent action movie."
"I think so. That scream sounded exactly like the sound of broken ribs."
"Uh..."
Hawke leaned forward, one hand covering the mouth of Blackie, who was leaning against the console, while looking at the ribs where he had just struck Blackie.
"Can you tell where the person was injured from the scream?"
Gwen laughed on the other end of the line.
"Of course. My dad's the sheriff. Let me tell you something. Even the new cops aren't necessarily as skilled as I am."
"...I can tell."
Hawke was speechless.
What else could he say? A nerd is a nerd.
They learn everything faster and better than everyone else.
Just then,Gwen's laughter became bright and hearty this time.
"I was just kidding. How could that be possible?"
"...Okay, I'm serious."
"By the way, why is your phone off? I called you multiple times but couldn't get through."
"What's wrong?"
Hawke remained crouched, one hand covering Blackie's mouth to prevent him from screaming, the other clutching the phone as he spoke to Gwen.
"Come downstairs."
"What?"
"Dr. Connors knows you were fired and that you're the one taking the blame. He felt bad and prepared a gift for you, but you couldn't get through on the phone, so I came over anyway. Aren't you home?"
Gwen, who had already arrived at Hawke's new apartment in her yellow Corolla, pressed an envelope on the passenger seat and peered out the window at Hawke's new apartment building.
Hearing Gwen arrive, Hawke was silent for a second or two before reacting.
"Yes, I'm not at home. How about you take it back first and give it to me when school starts?"
"I've already gotten out of the car."
Gwen closed the car door and walked towards Hawke's new apartment building, saying, "You are on the top floor of the apartment near the road. Your windows are not closed. I will go in from the escape stairs and leave it directly at your home."
Hawke was stunned.
It's not surprising that Gwen knew where his home was.
After all, Gwen was there when he was writing the information for the job, and she might have seen it.
But...
"How did you know?"
"I saw your shorts hanging by the window."
"Uh..."
"You've been wearing those pants for three years, and if I remember correctly, they weren't shorts before. I think you changed them into shorts in the tenth grade."
"Okay, that's it. I'll leave them directly at your home. I'm in a hurry to go back."
"..."
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