The Hunter Read Online Free

members of his family, and learned there were different kinds of violence.
    Hawk had never been part of this side of violence, where he had to take in instead of give out. He couldn’t compromise his job by walking away. And worse, he couldn’t do a thing about it. He had discovered something new lately—he was starting to take every violent crime Dilaver committed against young girls very, very personally. So much so, he wished that he had killed the crime lord instead of “saving” him. There was nothing, nothing that could have stopped him if he had known the things he was to see in Velesta.
    That usual regret was replaying again in Hawk’s head as he stood there. He knew nothing in his stance or expression betrayed any of his violent thoughts. Besides, someone had done something pretty interesting—disrupted Dragan Dilaver’s business. Whoever it was had Hawk’s silent congratulations. Not many around here would dare lift a finger against the powerful man, let alone steal something from under his nose.
    “You’re all fuckers—all of you! I can’t leave anything for you to take care of without some total fuckup. You think just because I’m walking around with a limp that I can’t kick all of your bloody asses from here to Skopje and back? I lose a fucking load of cargo in Asia and come home to find that you’ve been losing more of our cargo here, with all of you, supposedly my captains, in charge. Give me a good reason not to kill every one of you!”
    Dilaver’s ranting grew more winded as he began to tire. He had been swinging his cane at every available piece of breakable furniture. Unable to kick because of his injury, he had resorted to tearing apart the room with his bare hands, scattering pieces of wood, china, cloth—anything that caught his line of fire.
    Dilaver’s injury would have incapacitated a smaller man, but he had toughed it out like the mercenary he was. His guide gone, his cache of illegal weapons lost, he had to cut his losses and get the hell out of Dodge. He had finally worked out a deal with Hawk’s “boss,” Stefan, for Hawk’s services to guide Dilaver and his men out of Asia.
    Hawk himself had sustained a slight “injury” to his arm, and although not as serious, it still needed time to heal. Dilaver had been impressed that the other man had saved him from being caught, despite having been shot himself, and sometimes introduced him as his “blood” brother. All part of the game, of course. Get close to Dilaver. Establish a bond. Find the locations.
    And the past few months…life as Dragan Dilaver’s new best friend couldn’t have been more hellish.
    “And what are you thinking of, my American friend, with that smirk on your face?”
    Hawk unhooked his leg and kicked a nearby piece of broken china by his feet. “I’m glad there isn’t any food in here or you’d have made quite a mess by now.”
    Dilaver stopped pacing and stared across the room. “Are you making fun of me?”
    Hawk shrugged. “Would I dare?”
    The big Slavic man dropped down on a battered chair, rattling his heavy cane against the side of the table. “Of course you would, you crazy son of a bitch. I’ve been observing you the last few months and have yet to see you back down from a fight when someone challenged you, and then you egg on the stupid bastard after he’s lost. With the same smirk that you have now.”
    That was Dilaver’s version of friendship. Around here, one fought for fun. With real knives. Hawk had discovered that was a form of entertainment as well as a pressure release for some of these men. So far, he had handled the few who had wanted to try out the new American. Fights were nothing; Hawk fought with his brothers and cousins all the time at home.
    He shrugged. “Sometimes they make it too easy.”
    “Now you think my men are easy, huh? Where the hell are the drinks?” Dilaver snapped his fingers and everyone seemed to heave a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of