Brad Thor - The First Commandment

The idea was to lure Morrell and his team to the hotel where Claudia’s husband, Horst, and his tactical team would be waiting to take them into custody.

Claudia had assured him that under Switzerland ’s rigid antiterrorism laws, if any of Morrell’s men were carrying weapons of any kind, she could hold them for quite some time before actually filing any charges. The only hitch was that she had to catch them first.

CAMP PEARY, VIRGINIA

Rick Morrell didn’t like any of it. It had fallen right into his lap. It was too sloppy, especially for a guy like Harvath, and that’s why he decided to pull the plug.

Standing his team down, he put up with all their bullshit complaints as he had them unload the plane and stack their gear back in the two trucks they had used to drive out to the CIA’s private airstrip.

“I still don’t get it,” said Mike Raymond as they passed the final checkpoint and headed toward the highway. “It’s almost like you don’t want to catch this guy.”

“If that’s what you believe then you are just as stupid as Harvath thinks you are,” replied Morrell.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Harvath completely disappearing from the grid. Nobody sees him, nobody hears from him, and then suddenly, whammo, he pops back up.”

“Correction,” stated Raymond. “Suddenly he gets in contact with someone the NSA already has under surveillance. That’s how we got our lead.”

Morrell looked at his subordinate and realized he was going to have to connect the rest of the dots for him. “And it doesn’t bother you that McCauliff started back scrubbing all of his data trails and had the DOD do a pickup sweep on all his phone lines? He might not have known when he was talking to Harvath that someone was peeping on him, but he figured it out pretty fast.”

“You’re paranoid. Even if McCauliff did know about it, it didn’t change the nature of the intel he gave Harvath.”

“Meaning?” asked Morrell.

“Meaning Harvath has been off the grid because he went to ground. It wasn’t until he got something actionable that he popped back up.”

“And the fact that he popped back up using one of his known DHS aliases and a credit card doesn’t bother you?”

Mike Raymond shrugged his shoulders. “ Switzerland is fucking expensive. Show me one hotel that doesn’t expect you to present a credit card upon check-in.”

“How about a hostel?” offered Morrell. “Or a Gästezimmer in a private house? He could use a campground. He could even pick up some unwitting woman and shack up at her place. This is tradecraft 101.”

“Sure, maybe, but-”

“He knows we’re watching his buddy Finney’s aircraft,” said Morrell, plowing on, “yet he’d use it anyway to go to Zurich? I don’t buy it. It’s too good a trail.”

“So just like that you pull the plug?”

“Listen, Harvath’s problem has always been that he thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. You read his jacket yourself.”

“We all read his jacket, but what if Harvath set this all up because he knew you’d react this way.”

Morrell smiled. “He’s smart, but he’s not that smart.”

Raymond shook his head. “Either way, it probably doesn’t make much difference. Even if he was in Zurich, he’s already got a head start on us. We could make the trip only to discover he’s already long gone.”

“That’s also one of the reasons I changed my mind.”

“But what if you’re wrong?”

“And Harvath really is in Zurich?” asked Morrell.

Raymond nodded.

“If Finney’s plane wasn’t a decoy and Harvath was dumb enough to use it, we can still track it. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

“What about the hotel Harvath supposedly registered at?”

“I’ve already got that covered.”

“Are you going to use an agency person from our embassy over there?” asked Raymond.

“No. The DCI was very clear. This needs to be kept absolutely quiet. I’ve got a friend; an ex-DOJ guy who retired and moved over to Copenhagen. He can go in and check things out for us.”

“You mean that book dealer? Malone?”

“Yeah, he owes me a favor. He can be in Zurich in a few hours,” replied Morrell.

“And you trust him?”

“Completely. He’s a smart guy. He knows what he’s doing.”

Raymond looked at Morrell. “And what if Malone calls and says Harvath really is in Zurich?”

Morrell scoffed. “We’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it. Personally, I think we’ve got a much better chance of Harvath turning up here in the States than we do overseas.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Trust me,” replied Morrell. “When it comes to Harvath, I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

FONTANA, WISCONSIN

Known as the “ Hamptons of the Midwest,” Geneva Lake and the handful of resort towns and villages that surrounded its crystal-clear, spring-fed waters were a vacationer’s paradise. There was boating, sailing, swimming, hiking, fishing, shopping, and amazing golf.

Thirty-six holes plus lunch was what Harvath offered his pilots when he booked them into the Abbey Resort along with himself and asked if he could have use of their rental car in exchange.

The pilots were more than happy to comply. While they had an okay per diem, the sitting around and waiting for a client part of their jobs was normally the worst part. They didn’t always get to stay in a resort of the Abbey’s caliber and get thirty-six holes of golf and lunch to boot.

The arrangement worked out well for Harvath too. He didn’t want to let anyone know where he was, and if he used his real ID or credit cards, anyone who was looking for him would instantly know where he was. And as useful as the Hans Brauner alias was, it didn’t come with a driving permit.

Of course Harvath could have stolen a car, but in such a small community that was something he would have done only if he were desperate.

Meg’s wedding and reception were the day after tomorrow and were to be held at the Lake Geneva Country Club. The club, or LGCC as it was commonly called, sat on the southeastern shore of the lake. It was an idyllic setting for a wedding.

What Harvath couldn’t figure out, though, was how Roussard was going to spin the last plague and cause the waters to run red with blood. With the president in attendance, security was going to be beyond tight. In fact, no matter how badly Harvath wanted to go take a look at LGCC and the security the Secret Service had put in place, he knew it was pointless. He’d been a presidential advance team leader. The club would be locked up tighter than Fort Knox.

Even coming in via the water was out of the question. As boring a job as it was standing guard over a location in advance of a presidential visit, the local, state, and federal law enforcement officers who would be there right now would be taking their jobs very seriously. No one ever wanted to have something happen to the president, especially on their watch. Harvath knew that firsthand, and he knew it the hard way, because it had happened to him once.

The more Harvath had thought about it, the more targeting Meg’s wedding made sense. Roussard would get a lot of bang for his buck. Not only could he gain international fame and notoriety for the attack, but the killer could also harm additional people who were very significant to Harvath. There had to be something Harvath could do to stop him.

But first, he had to understand what his play was for Lake Geneva and Meg’s wedding. Did he have access to extra muscle? And just as important, as this was the final plague and seemed to involve the president as well, would his mother, Adara, show?