Code of Conduct

CHAPTER 13

The biggest impediment they faced in walking to the clinic, beyond the weight of their packs, was the amount of water they needed. It was imperative that they be well-hydrated before going in, but that was nothing compared to the amount of water they’d need on their way out.

Harvath had known this was going to be a problem, even before leaving the States, and had planned accordingly. They couldn’t depend on the clinic’s well. If it didn’t work, it could result in a death sentence. Harvath had seen enough wells fail to know better than to tie his survival to one in Congo.

Following the narrow river upstream to where it snaked behind the clinic would take them out of their way and increase the likelihood that they would bump into locals, but it would keep them off the road where they might bump into rebels, and it would solve their water issue. It made complete and total sense, except to Dr. Decker.

“You can’t do this,” she admonished him, once she had figured out what he was doing.

“Watch me.”

“You really are a selfish asshole. You know that?”

Harvath had to take a breath and remind himself again that a gentleman never strikes a lady.

“You’ve never had a well go bad before?” he asked as he finished rebalancing her pack and cinched its top down.

“That’s not what I am talking about. I’m talking about you being willing to wash God-knows-what-we’ll-find downriver. Do you know how many people you could end up killing?”

Harvath unzipped a compartment on his pack and unrolled four canvas buckets.

“If you want to set up shop farther away from the river, that’s fine by me,” he said, tossing two of the buckets to her. “But you’re going to carry your own water. Mine too, since we’re partners.”

Decker shot him a disparaging look and chided him. “Don’t you have any sense of moral obligation?”

“My moral obligation is simple. I figure out what happened at Matumaini and I make sure we get out of here alive. Anything beyond that is not my problem.”

“How about we try to leave this place better than we found it?”

“Put it on a bumper sticker,” he said, standing up and holding her pack out to her. “This should be more comfortable now.”

Decker took it and almost felt guilty over how much he had lightened it. He had removed a good forty pounds. His act of kindness notwithstanding, she was still angry at his lack of concern over the lives of the locals.

But before she could say anything else, or even swing her pack onto her back, he had picked up his now considerably heavier rucksack, and was moving upstream.

He had an answer for everything — even when his answer was silence. It was infuriating. The real salt in the wound, though, had been the lecture he had given her as they walked away from camp. After warning her about not wanting a repeat of what had happened that morning, he had threatened to tie her to a tree and leave her for the pygmies if she didn’t follow all of his instructions to the letter. He had said it with his boyish smile, but it failed to disarm her. She could see right through him.

Harvath obviously had a problem with women, especially smart, accomplished women. He was nothing more than a caveman — a handsome caveman — but a caveman nonetheless.

“Hey,” she said, trotting to catch up as he moved along the river. “Are you this much fun with your wife?”

“Not married,” he replied and kept moving.

“Imagine that,” Decker quipped.

Harvath ignored her.

They walked on in silence for twenty more minutes, until he stopped and checked his GPS. He took a long look around and then motioned for Decker to follow him up the riverbank and into the jungle.

It was slow going. He used a machete he had borrowed from Jambo to help cut a path.

Several minutes later, he stopped and turned to look at her.

“Far enough from the river?” he asked.

Decker nodded, not knowing whether to be pleased with herself or not. The bottom line was that he had taken what she had said to heart.

“Good,” he replied, taking off his pack. “I’m going to clear the rest of this brush. You start getting the water.”

She dropped her pack near his and disappeared back down the path, the red LEDs of her headlamp lighting her way.

While she went to get the water, Harvath screwed the PVC poles together and hung the plastic sheeting. Next, he filled the canisters with the powder and set their lids next to them.

In the tens of thousands of hours that had gone into establishing the protocols, he was positive that no one had ever envisioned something this primitive.

The ground was soft and he used the machete to trench a berm. It would help prevent the runoff from going all the way downhill and into the river. It was an additional peace offering. Decker had been right. They needed to take all reasonable precautions. They needed to keep it out of the river.

If she bitched about it ending up in the groundwater, there was obviously no pleasing her and he would tie her to a tree and make good on his threat to leave her for the pygmies.

By the time Decker came back, he had finished clearing their staging area, had unrolled the enormous bladder, and had positioned it inside its multi-point sling.

He walked her through everything and, after helping her fill the first canister with water, told her what he wanted her to do if he wasn’t back in an hour. She wasn’t happy about being left alone.

Handing her the machete, Harvath made her repeat what he had told her. To the letter, she repeated his instructions.

She had expected him to leave her with a final admonition over what had happened that morning, but to his credit, he didn’t. Instead, he smiled and told her everything would be okay. Then, flipping his night vision goggles back down, he walked into the jungle and was gone.

Based on his GPS reading at the river, and a review of the satellite imagery saved to his phone, Harvath had a good idea where the clinic was, along with the best way to approach. It took him less than ten minutes to find it.

When he did, he remained in the jungle. He didn’t dare enter the clearing. In his mind, there was a bright red circle painted around the building. He wasn’t going to cross that line without having taken every single precaution possible.

He low-crawled to the edge of the clearing, parted the vegetation, and peered through his goggles. There was no movement to be seen, but even more unusual was the fact that there wasn’t a sound coming from anywhere. It was as if even the animals were avoiding this place. The quiet was unsettling. Harvath tried to shake it off.

Retreating into the jungle, he worked his way around the perimeter. There were no trucks, or vehicles of any sort. No light came from inside the clinic. It looked completely abandoned.

Arriving at the northwest corner of the clearing, he looked at his watch. He wanted to check out the burn pit too, but he’d be pushing it time-wise. He wasn’t sure if Decker would honor his instructions or not, but if he wasn’t back in an hour he had to expect that she’d be gone. And if she was gone, he would have to abandon the operation. While he hadn’t liked the idea of bringing Decker along, he couldn’t escape the fact that it was a two-person job. He wouldn’t have been able to suit up without her. The reconnaissance, though, would be incomplete without checking the pit, so he decided to push it.

He could smell the pit long before he could see it. More appropriately, he could smell the accelerant that had been used. Jet fuel had a unique odor. But the nearest airport was hundreds of kilometers away. How the hell had jet fuel ended up in the middle of the jungle?

For the moment, that question would have to remain unanswered. Nearing the pit, he stopped and listened. When he didn’t hear anything, he crept forward to take a look.

There was no sign of anyone, but someone had been there. And they had come through with heavy vehicles, one of which was on treads.

A bulldozer, Harvath thought to himself. Not a good sign. The only reason you brought in something that big was if you had something very large to unearth or to cover up. Though he had never held out much hope for the staff and patients of the Matumaini Clinic, he had held out some. The revelation that a bulldozer had likely been involved in the pit now dashed that hope.

It also raised his concern as to who had staged the alleged attack on the clinic. Hazmat suits, jet fuel, and earth-moving equipment spoke to a very high level of sophistication.

He wanted to examine more of the pit. There was still that question poking at the back of his mind from when he had seen the original satellite footage of it. Something hadn’t made sense. Was it the shape of the pit? The part where the heat was concentrated?

Unfortunately, he was out of time. He needed to get back before Decker took off.

Retracing his steps, he moved as quickly and as quietly as he could.