Code of Conduct

CHAPTER 43

Mordechai accepted a cup of tea and moved a bit closer to the fire Harvath had started for him in the fireplace.

As the wood sizzled and popped, he listened to Harvath lay everything out. When he had finished, the first thing that came to mind to say was “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harvath replied. “All we ask is that you don’t broadcast to your people that President Porter has been taken to Bethesda. If that gets out, it will cause a panic.”

“When it comes to causing a panic, I think there are one or two other things you should be more concerned about.”

“And we are. We just don’t want to contribute to a deteriorating situation.”

“I understand,” Mordechai said. “In the event the President is unable to execute his duties, who takes over? The Vice President, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And if the Vice President happened to become ill?”

“Then the Speaker of the House followed by the President pro tempore of the Senate,” Harvath replied.

“And then cabinet members,” Carlton added. “Secretary of State, all the way down to the Secretary of Homeland Security.”

“Which is where Linda Landon works,” said Mordechai.

Harvath had his laptop open on his desk, and he pulled up the United States Presidential line of succession to show him.

“But if the Vice President is number one,” he said, “Homeland Security is all the way down here at the bottom at number seventeen. And that’s for the current, acting secretary. Not only would he have to fall ill, but so would several other people at DHS before she could ever hope to ascend to the secretary position.”

Mordechai shrugged. “If the virus moves fast enough.”

It was almost too crazy to believe. Sickening everyone above you in order to seize the Oval Office? But maybe there was something to it. Palace coups had used poison throughout history, so why not disease? Was that why Damien was rubbing elbows with all the backbencher bureaucrats? Was it more than just securing the reins of power in the White House? Was it a means by which to control the Federal Government from tip to tail?

It all came back to how Damien intended for the survivors of African Hemorrhagic Fever to actually survive. If they could figure that out, then maybe they could reverse engineer the plot.

Harvath looked at Carlton. “Who do we have at Homeland Security that we can trust?”

“I can think of one or two people, but it depends on the task. Are you looking for background on Linda Landon? Interoffice chatter, that kind of thing?”

He shook his head. “No. Word might leak and like we said, she’ll run to Damien. Right now, I’m more concerned with the people above her. Specifically, I want to know if any of them are sick.”

The Old Man thought about it for a second and then said, “I have someone I can call.”

“Good. Do it,” Harvath replied. Turning to Mordechai, he asked, “What do you need?”

Tapping the laptop he had brought in with him, he said, “WiFi access.”

“No problem. Anything else?”

“I’d also like my phone back so that I can call my people and bring them up to speed.”

Harvath looked at Carlton and the Old Man nodded. “Done.”

He called to Sloane and asked her to bring Mordechai’s cell phone in. He then created a hotspot, firewalled off from all of his devices, and gave the man a temporary password.

As Carlton stepped out of the room to call his contact at DHS, Nicholas asked, “What do you need from me?”

“How long would it take you to get inside that Main Core database and give me a thirty-thousand-foot view?”

The little man looked down at his chronograph, activated the stopwatch, and said, “Let’s find out.”

Sliding off the couch, he picked up his coffee, whistled for the dogs, and headed for the front door. He worked better without other people around, and the van had everything he needed.

Now, the only person without a designated assignment was Harvath. That didn’t mean, though, that he didn’t have something to do. He had a huge task in front of him — and it began in the kitchen.

He quietly asked Sloane to remain in the study with Mordechai. He also asked her to use her phone to covertly record any conversations the Israeli conducted over his cell phone. Harvath’s Hebrew wasn’t good enough to help translate them later, but Nicholas would have access to a program that could do it. With Sloane given her marching orders, Harvath went to speak with Lara.

She had the TV on. She was a news junkie like him. Even if she were not, today was the kind of day where everyone began turning on television sets, looking to pick up the latest information, wondering if the breaking news was going to impact them. Harvath knew that it was going to impact everyone.

“Not good,” she said, nodding toward the TV.

“I know,” he replied. “We need to talk.”

Lara wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and poured herself a cup of coffee. Raising the pot, she looked to see if Harvath wanted some.

“Please,” he said with a nod.

Lara brought it over to the kitchen table, warmed up his cup, and sat down next to him.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“Bad.”

“How the hell are you right in the middle of it?”

He smiled.

“I’m worried about Marco,” she continued. “And my parents.”

“So am I. That’s what I want to talk with you about. I have made arrangements for you all to be taken someplace safe.”

“Where?”

“Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Lara repeated.

“Good friends of mine have a fishing lodge there. It’s in the middle of nowhere. He’s a SEAL and his wife is very squared away. They know what they’re doing. You’ll all be safe there.”

“What about you?”

“Unfortunately, I have to stay behind. But I’m going to be okay. I’m going to put Nicholas in a backpack and stuff my pockets with bacon so the dogs don’t leave my side.”

Lara attempted a smile, her eyes cast toward the floor.

He raised her chin until she was looking at him. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated.

“Does it have to be you?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

She turned away from him, but he gently turned her back. Her eyes were moist. He had never seen her cry.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said again.

“Come with us.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Porter has the whole government at his beck and call. Scientists, the military. Let’s just go. Let’s outrun it.”

He pulled her to him and held her tighter than he had ever held her before.

They stayed like that for several minutes. It was long enough for their breathing to fall into synch. Finally, she pushed away from him.

As she did, she hit him right in the center of his chest as hard as she could and said, “Fuck you.”

She was a cop, tough. She knew how to make it hurt, and it did.

“Oof,” Harvath groaned.

She stared at him, angry.

“Fuck you,” he teased. “I haven’t learned that one yet. Is it Brazilian Portuguese or Portuguese Portuguese?”

Lara smiled. This time, it was genuine.

“You need to understand that I’m doing this for you. For you and for Marco,” he said. “And for your parents.”

It had felt hollow as it took shape in his mind, but as soon as it touched his lips, he realized that he meant it.

“There isn’t anybody else who can do this,” he continued. “Not now. Nicholas, me, Reed, Sloane, Chase, we’re it. Look,” he said as he directed her attention back to the TV. “People are already dying, and it kills me that I couldn’t help them. The only thing I can do right now is try to protect everyone else.”

“But you can’t protect everyone.”

“I can try. I need to.”

Stroking the side of his cheek, she leaned in and kissed him. “I love you too,” she said.

Harvath pulled her into him and kissed her back. Closing his eyes, he drank her in — the way she felt, the way she kissed, the way she smelled. He tried to freeze everything about her; he tried to create a snapshot that would always be there whenever he needed her.

He didn’t want the moment to end. But it did when Carlton soundlessly slipped into the kitchen and cleared his throat.

Disentangling himself from Lara, Harvath looked up.

“I just got off the phone with my contact at Homeland Security,” the Old Man said. “It’s bad.”