Code of Conduct

CHAPTER 22

Even though his digital guru, Nicholas, was groggy and angry from having been awakened at such an ungodly hour back in the States, he had made quick work of the assignment Harvath had given him.

With his laptop balanced on the hood of LC1, Harvath scrolled through the satellite images. Nicholas had highlighted all the cell towers that Leonce’s phone had shaken hands with.

The pictures drew a path back to Bunia.

“That’s not good,” Ash said over Harvath’s shoulder.

He didn’t bother turning to look at him. “What do you see?”

The Brit reached over, put his finger on a cluster of buildings near a cell tower on Harvath’s screen, and said, “MONUSCO HQ.”

“Let me guess,” Harvath replied. “That’s Swahili for rebel central.”

“Worse. United Nations Stabilization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. MONUSCO is the acronym for the official name in French. You could probably pronounce it, but I don’t parlez le frog.”

The historical animosity between the French and the Brits always made him laugh. “Why is it worse than rebel central?”

“You ever work with a UN stabilization force?” Ash asked.

Harvath shook his head.

“Then trust me. As the old saying goes, you can’t spell unprofessional, unethical, or unaccountable without the UN. The cholera outbreak the old blue helmets caused in Haiti? Over ten thousand dead, and it has spread to the Dominican Republic and Cuba. The rapes and sex crimes they have committed in Mali and everywhere else? The stories of their depravity and brutality are legion.

“Their entire ‘military,’ if you can call it that, is shot through with corruption and rampant lack of accountability. They even allowed two of their own unarmed military observers in Bunia to get slaughtered years ago because none of their fellow UN troops wanted to risk a rescue operation. They’re pathetic.”

UN troops were indeed known for a lack of honor and discipline. Harvath was familiar with the horror stories surrounding their deployments. He could think of no greater nightmare than to have his country reliant upon the UN to provide “peace” and “stability.” He’d rather take his chances combatting whatever was causing the war and instability in the first place.

A fish rots from the head down and any organization that boasted a human rights council, yet accepted human-rights violators like China, Cuba, Russia, Saudi Arabia, and even slavery-infested Mauritania as members couldn’t be taken seriously, much less be expected to police and field an effective and honorable military. In short, Harvath didn’t have much use for the UN.

“What about this?” Harvath asked, advancing to another image.

“Downtown Bunia,” said Ash. “About three clicks from the hotel we stayed at.”

Harvath pushed a button and the red dots representing cell towers dimmed, and a cluster of green dots became visible.

“What do those represent?” Ash asked.

“Opportunity,” Harvath replied.

Decker felt certain about one thing. If Leonce and his son were not already exhibiting symptoms of whatever illness they were looking at, they likely weren’t going to.

Her emphasis on the word likely didn’t put Harvath or the security team at ease. None of the men were willing to roll their personal dice on her assessment. She had signed on to be a doctor and willingly commune with the sick of Africa, they hadn’t.

After Harvath gave her a wad of bills, Jambo drove Decker to the village where Leonce had left the clinic’s vehicle. The repairs had been minimal, and the car was already waiting. She and Jambo returned twenty minutes later. In an act of solidarity, she would be driving back to Bunia with Leonce and his son while the rest of the team rode in the Land Cruisers.

Decker didn’t have to worry about the harrowing river crossings they had conducted on their way in. Her little vehicle would never make it. They had to go far out of their way and cut back toward Bunia. All the while, Harvath and the security team were keeping their eyes peeled for roadblocks. None of them had any desire to bump up against the FRPI again.

Their trek was long, but thankfully uneventful. When they arrived at the Bunia Hotel, it was well after dark. After checking in, they unloaded all of their gear and secured it in their rooms. Ever eager to spread money around the family, Jambo had offered to ring up his relatives and have them come back and babysit the trucks, but Ash had said it wasn’t necessary. Harvath, though, thought he might have another use for them.

Those green dots on his laptop earlier corresponded to six cell phones Nicholas had traced to a walled, concrete structure on the other side of town. It reminded Harvath of a poor man’s version of the Bin Laden compound in Abbottabad.

He wanted to do a drive-by and Ash had agreed to go with him. They brought Jambo just in case.

When the hotel security guard opened the gates, Ash put the Land Cruiser in gear and pulled out into evening traffic.

Motorbikes carrying passengers, known as boda-boda, weaved in and out between cars, while bicycle riders piloting black mambas, so named because they left trails in the dust that resembled those of the deadly snake, grabbed onto trucks and other vehicles to hitch free rides. Harvath and Ash kept their Glocks under their thighs, hidden from sight.

The GPS system on Harvath’s phone guided them toward their target. Along the streets, small, ramshackle shops sold everything from cheap Chinese televisions to cooking pots.

Harvath had long held that with its incredible resources, Africa should be the most powerful continent on the planet. But because of its tribalism and terrible governments, it was relegated to permanent third world status. Seeing it firsthand always made him appreciate even more what he had back at home.

Thinking of back home, he checked his phone again. Lara still hadn’t texted him back. It was for the best. He didn’t have time to get involved in any additional drama. His time with Decker in the jungle shower had been bad enough.

Decker hadn’t liked being rebuffed, but that was her problem. He had tried to make it clear that he wasn’t interested. She had persisted anyway, sensing that there may have been some sort of opening with him. She had been wrong.

When she had stepped into the shower and had tried to press herself up against him, that’s when he steered her back out and told her in no uncertain terms what the situation was.

He couldn’t have been the first man to say no to her, but watching the Brits continue to drool all over her, he wondered if maybe he was. Not that it mattered to him. He had something much better waiting for him at home — provided he could salvage it.

His fidelity seemed to turn Decker on even more. That, or she saw it as a challenge. In either case, he was glad to not have to ride to Bunia with her and was equally pleased to be away from the hotel and not have to deal with her there.

Nearing the compound, he tried to put Lara, Decker, and everything else out of his mind.

They would only get one look tonight and as their Land Cruiser rolled slowly by, he took in everything — the wall heights, window and door placement, the lighting, security measures, adjacent buildings, as well as all of the nearby businesses.

“I vote no,” Ash stated as they kept on going.

Harvath looked at him. “No to what?”

“No to everything you’re thinking right now.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“The same way I knew yesterday morning that you wouldn’t radio us even if it did go tits up out in the jungle.”

“Technically, you said to call only if it went pear-shaped,” Harvath replied.

“Are you taking the piss now? Is that what this is?”

“No, but that’s a good idea. Pull over.”

“I didn’t say take a piss,” Ash clarified. “I said taking the piss. It means—”

“I know what it means,” said Harvath. “And yes, I’m pulling your chain, but I still want you to pull over. Up there by that bar. Pardon me, by that pub.”

“I know what a bar is, you nonce.”

Harvath smiled. “Just taking the piss again. Don’t worry.”

“Something tells me I’m going to have plenty to worry about soon enough,” Ash replied as he pulled off the road and put the Land Cruiser in park.

From the backseat, Jambo looked out his window at the bar and asked, “Are we going in for a beer?”

“Ash and I are,” said Harvath. “You’re going for a walk.”