Brad Thor - Full Black

Like a double helix, the DNA of Harvath’s career was entwined with something else-his desire for a family and a stable home life.

The biggest thing people in Harvath’s industry had in common was divorce. Disappearing at a moment’s notice to go off to some of the darkest corners of the world to do dangerous and unspeakable things wasn’t exactly the fertile soil in which happy families grew. You missed anniversaries, birthday parties, holidays, soccer games, school plays, parent-teacher conferences, and on and on. It took an amazingly resilient and unique spouse not only to put up with it, but to keep the family strong and together.

Though Harvath knew a woman like that was next to impossible to find, he specialized in the impossible, and refused to give up looking.

The Old Man must have sensed Harvath’s interest in Riley Turner, because he had been reluctant to okay her for this operation. Though Harvath had worked with her once before, his desire to learn more about her had tipped his hand. Nevertheless, Carlton had given in and allowed her to be part of the Uppsala operation. There were no other Athena operatives with her medical skill set. He hadn’t needed to overtly remind Harvath to keep it professional. His tone when okaying Riley’s participation had said it all.

While he had sons of his own, none of them had gone into his line of work, and the Old Man felt a special affinity for Harvath. That said, he knew Harvath had lost his own father, also a SEAL, just after high school, and he wasn’t above manipulating the father-son bond they had developed. It often proved the key to getting through Harvath’s headstrong personality and making sure he did the right thing. He suspected something might be materializing between Riley and his operative, but Carlton knew there was little he could do about it. Much like a parent, employers also had to trust that the people they task with difficult jobs will do the right thing and put the successful outcome of the assignment above everything else.

And that’s exactly what Harvath did. He had kept things professional, right up until he was ready to leave to join the assault team in Uppsala.

After placing all his gear into his car, he walked back into the barn. Bachmann had helped Riley wrap Mansoor in the blankets he’d brought from the house. He was now standing a respectful distance away while Riley tended to her patient.

Harvath tilted his head toward the door, indicating he wanted the ex-CIA man to wait outside. Bachmann did as Harvath requested.

Once the barn doors were closed, Harvath approached. “How’s he doing?”

Riley looked up at him. “His pulse is still thready.”

“Will you be able to move him?”

“Probably not for a couple of hours.”

“The Old Man says you’ll be going to the site in Iceland now. Better medical there.”

Riley nodded again.

“He also said he sent a team into Mansoor’s apartment outside London. They didn’t find much,” continued Harvath. “We are assuming he uses a cloud.”

Cloud computing referred to virtual networks where data was stored. It acted as a fail-safe for terrorists in particular, in case they were captured. If they didn’t give up their cloud, it was nearly impossible to locate their data. They could also set up their clouds in a way that required them to “touch back” at regularly scheduled intervals or a countdown would be enacted and all of the data on that cloud would be destroyed.

“Don’t worry,” said Riley. “I’m going to be with him the entire time. As soon as he regains consciousness, I’ll press him for the cloud.”

“Good,” said Harvath. For a moment, he stood there just looking at her. She was, hands-down, one of the best-looking women he’d ever seen.

“The answer’s no,” she said.

Harvath snapped out of it. “What answer?”

“The answer to whatever it is you’re thinking of asking me.”

“Who said I was going to ask you anything?” he replied.

Riley shook her head. “I know that look.”

“I didn’t give you any look.”

“Fine,” she said. “There was no look.”

“You need anything else before I go?” he asked.

“I’m sure if I need anything, Andy will help me.”

Harvath shook his head. She was playing with him. He knew she was. Pointing at Mansoor he said, “Stay in touch. I want to be kept up to speed on how he’s doing.”

“Will do,” said Riley as she turned away to prep another IV for her patient.

With nothing else to say, Harvath walked toward the door and exited the barn. But just as he had the first time they had met, he could feel her eyes on him as he walked away. He thought about turning around, but then decided against it. He needed to get his head into the game for what was awaiting him and the rest of the assault team in Uppsala.

The takedown was going to have to happen very fast. In and out in three minutes or less. They had to be gone before the Swedish police arrived at the scene and an international incident was made of the raid. That meant there was no margin for error. It also meant that there was a very high likelihood that something could go wrong. And as Harvath drove away from the farm toward Uppsala, that was exactly what his gut was telling him was going to happen.

Harvath had wanted to keep the parameters of Chase’s operation as limited as possible. This wasn’t a long-term, deep-cover operation. He was to be their inside eyes for the takedown.

Chase was to ascertain how many members the cell contained, with whom and how they were communicating, what critical intelligence was being kept at the safe house, and where, as well as what their defensive capabilities were.

At the accident scene, Harvath had cloned the dead terrorists’ SIM cards. They also had the mobile number the driver had called after picking up Mansoor Aleem at the Stockholm airport, and Chase had dialed after the accident. Did it belong to the cell leader? Would the Carlton team back in the States be able to track it? As Chase left the accident scene, no one knew. Therefore, Harvath had developed a two-pronged plan.

The most critical information for the assault team, if they could pinpoint the location of the terrorists’ safe house, was how many people were inside, whether they were armed, whether there were any explosives present, and what, if anything, had been booby-trapped. Assuming that Chase was not going to have access to a cell phone, and might not have access to a computer, Harvath laid out a simple means of communicating the critical information via whatever window coverings the safe house employed. It was a simple espionage tactic that would draw little to no attention. Blinds, shutters, shades, or curtains, unless the windows had been painted or newspapered over, would communicate the details. Harvath had every confidence that it would work.

To communicate to Chase that they had pinpointed his location, Harvath’s car would be parked on the street outside with a book left on the dashboard. This was where Harvath was upset to have lost Riley. If they couldn’t get a parking space, they were going to have to create one. Riley could have been used as a diversion, perhaps dropping her purse as her companion, Harvath, got into the car they needed to move. While she was gathering up the contents to place back in her bag, Harvath would work on starting the car. To anyone watching, it would simply appear as if he was waiting for her before starting the vehicle. If he needed extra time, or was having some sort of trouble hotwiring, they could even stage an argument. With Harvath’s hands working beneath the dashboard, no one would be able to see what he was really doing.

That option, though, was now off the table.