Code of Conduct

CHAPTER 46

There was a small substructure beneath the church that Harvath had retrofitted to securely hold his weapons and equipment. He and Palmer had already unloaded half of the new supplies into the house. The rest had taken several trips and were being hidden down there.

They were in the process of deciding what should go where, when they heard people descending the stairs.

Harvath looked out the door to see Ashby, followed by Mordechai.

“I think you’re going to want to hear this,” she said.

Stepping around her, Mordechai extended his cell phone.

Harvath took it, and, seeing that a video was cued up, pressed play.

There were sounds of a struggle. Then there was the sound of breaking glass, followed by a woman’s voice screaming, “Pierre! Stop! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Harvath looked at Mordechai. “Helena?”

The Israeli nodded. “Her cell phone has a distress app. When it’s activated, it records a few seconds of video, and then attaches it to an S.O.S. email along with a GPS location.”

“There really wasn’t any video. Only audio.”

“The phone must have been in her purse or a pocket. The point is, she knows that distress app is only to be used in a life-or-death situation. She’s been compromised. We have to get her out, now.”

Harvath had already made up his mind about Damien, but there were other pieces he wanted to put in place before he moved. Helena’s distress call, though, had just trumped all of that. As soon as Damien figured out who she was, and how badly he had been penetrated, he was going to take off. They needed to move, fast.

“I’m going to fill Carlton in,” he said to Palmer. “Prep a platform for Mr. Mordechai and then stage everything in the driveway along with my kit.” Looking at Ashby, he added, “Gather up whatever else you two need and add it to the pile. Night vision, suppressors, all of it. I want to be out of here in five minutes.”

“Roger that,” she replied, as Palmer flashed him the thumbs-up.

“We’re driving?” Mordechai exclaimed as they moved quickly up the stairs. “It’ll take us at least an hour to get there.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not driving,” Harvath said.

He knew how important time was. They needed to make every second count, and not just in order to grab Damien.

Only twice in his career had Harvath hit the panic button as it was sometimes called. Both times, he was reluctant to do it and waited too long. It meant your op was over, unrecoverable, and you needed immediate extraction. It was one of the hardest things in the world to admit.

The first time he had done it, help had arrived quickly, and he survived. The second time, though, he nearly lost his life. He knew what it was like not knowing if anyone would come — not knowing if you were going to live or die.

That said, there were a lot of questions about how loyal Mordechai’s asset was, especially in light of the numerous deletions she had made on the memory card. For all he knew, they might be walking into some sort of a trap. It was an option they all needed to consider.

Hitting the top of the stairs, Harvath pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial key for Lydia Ryan.

“We received the email from Nicholas and we’re already working on it,” she said as she picked up.

“That’s not why I’m calling. I need a helicopter. Mordechai’s asset has been blown. If Damien runs, we’re going to lose him.”

“Are you looking to extract Helena, or grab Damien?”

“Both.”

“Does the President know?”

“Exigent circumstances. I’m making a command decision.”

Ryan knew it was pointless to argue with him. “We don’t have any helicopters available.”

“What? Why not?”

“Everyone Director McGee has been able to contact from that Main Core VIP list has been offered protection. They and their families are being picked up and flown to The Farm. No one is getting on that base without the Director’s say-so.”

Moving them to The Farm — the CIA’s clandestine training facility at Camp Peary — was a smart move. The fact that the Agency’s helicopters were all tied up, though, presented a real problem.

“I need you to find me something,” said Harvath. “I don’t care what kind. Just call me when you have it.”

“Who else can you call?” Mordechai asked as Harvath hung up.

“She’ll find one for us. Don’t worry.”

“We have to get to Helena. We have to leave now.”

“I understand,” Harvath replied. “Go find Nicholas. Tell him what we’re doing, and tell him we need the eagle.”

“The eagle?”

“That’s what we named our drone. We thought Liberty would be too ironic,” he said. “Hurry up. Helo or no helo, we’re out of here in five.”

While Mordechai headed for the front door and the driveway, Harvath made a beeline for his study. It was empty, and so he headed for the kitchen.

He found Carlton, a fresh mug of coffee in his hand, staring at the TV.

“It’s on every channel,” the Old Man said. “They’re beginning to link up all of the cases.”

“We’ve got bigger problems. Mordechai’s asset has been blown. She just hit the panic button.”

“That means Damien is going to go to ground.”

“Not if we can get to him first,” Harvath replied. “I called Ryan for a helo, but they’re tied up evacuating the Main Core VIPs and their families to The Farm. She’s going to try to find us something else.”

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime, I need you to stay here with Lara. If I’m not back in time, I need you to get her to the airport and get her on that plane. Beaman has all the details.”

Carlton looked at his watch and then back at him. “Anything else?”

“I want you to take whatever you need from here, it doesn’t matter what it is — food, water, fuel, whatever you want, and then get to Josephine.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Everything depends on Damien. Where’s Lara?”

“Packing.”

Harvath placed his hand on the Old Man’s shoulder as he walked past and headed for the stairs. He found Lara in the master bedroom.

“I’ve got to go,” he said from the doorway.

“Are you coming back?”

“I don’t know. Reed is downstairs. He’s going to make sure you get to the airport if I don’t get back in time.”

“So, is this goodbye?”

“For now,” Harvath replied, stepping into the room.

Lara met him halfway and wrapped her arms around him. “Come back to me.”

“I will,” he replied. And then, giving her a quick kiss, he turned and left the room.

Outside, he found Palmer, Ashby, and Mordechai waiting for him with the gear. He did a fast inventory to make sure everything was there.

Because he was going to need to work the phone and plan the op, he said to Palmer, “I want you to drive. Let’s load everything in your truck.”

“Now we’re driving?” Mordechai asked, the frustration evident in his voice.

“It’s the best I can—”

“You’ve got Damien’s estate under surveillance. Can’t you send that team in?”

Harvath motioned for Palmer and Ashby to get to work and drew the Israeli aside. “The team at Damien’s are not operators, Bentzi. They’re surveillance personnel. If they try to go in there, they’ll not only get themselves killed, they’re going to get Helena killed too. Help me load the truck. We’re wasting time.”

Once the vehicle was loaded, he had Palmer drive so he could work his phone and plan the operation. Ashby and Mordechai sat in the seats behind them.

Traffic was a nightmare as panicked people rushed to get home. They switched to the shoulder, but it soon became a de facto lane and their progress slowed to a crawl.

“Get off,” Harvath instructed.

“You want to use interior roads?” Palmer asked.

“I don’t care what we use. Just get us the hell off this highway.”

Harvath was pissed off and growing angrier by the moment. He didn’t need to turn around and look at Mordechai. He could only imagine what he was going through.

As they finally got far enough over to take a ramp, Harvath’s phone rang. “Tell me you have good news,” he said.

“Where are you?” Ryan replied.

Harvath looked at the GPS, confirmed with a mile marker, and relayed their position.

“I’ve got a bird for you. There’s a helipad at the Reston Hospital Center. I can have him there in ten minutes.”

“Do it,” said Harvath, who then turned to Palmer and gave him their new destination.

When they arrived at the Reston Hospital Center, the all-blue MD 600N helicopter was already waiting, its rotors hot.

It looked like a stretch version of the military’s Little Bird attack helicopter. It boasted a turbine-engine and an advanced anti-torque system that allowed it to fly high, fast, and quiet, three features Harvath and his team needed.

While the others quickly loaded their gear, Palmer parked the SUV and ran back to the helipad. Once he was on board, the pilot took off.

Harvath sat second seat and scanned the electronic tablet the pilot had handed him. It had a satellite link that allowed him to connect to several different mapping services in order to select the best place to land. The closer they were to Damien’s home, the greater chance the helicopter’s approach would be overheard.

He selected a large pasture at a nearby farm and gave the pilot the coordinates. Over his headset, he asked Ashby to pull his satellite phone from his backpack and call the surveillance team on site. He wanted one of them to remain in position and keep eyes on the estate while the other used their vehicle to come pick them up when they landed.

Twenty minutes later, the pilot dropped down to the tree level before turning on his searchlight and scanning the landing area for any obstructions.

After touching down, he shut the engine off and then helped the team unload. Sitting on the grass a hundred yards away, their ride was already waiting. Palmer gave the driver two quick bursts from his flashlight and the black SUV rolled forward.

Harvath provided the helicopter pilot with a radio and, after conducting a quick comms check, grabbed his backpack and walked over to the SUV.

Palmer, Ashby, and Mordechai were already doing a final equipment check.

Harvath watched as the Israeli had a hard time with his hands racking the slide on his Glock.

“You going to be okay?” Harvath asked.

“I’ll be fine,” the man snapped, uncomfortable at having his abilities questioned.

Harvath extended his hand and Mordechai handed over the pistol. Racking the slide, Harvath then handed it back.

“Toda,” the Israeli said. Thank you.

“Ein be’ad ma.”

As the team continued to prepare, Harvath asked the surveillance operative for any updates and they discussed the best way to approach.

According to the operative, nothing had changed since Damien and the woman had returned from lunch with their security detail. There were two men posted at the gatehouse at the bottom of the drive. And that was all they could see. Neither the main house nor any of the other buildings were visible from the street.

There was an access road that ran almost parallel up the adjoining property. Harvath had brought a pair of bolt cutters to get them through the gate.

As soon as Ashby had the drone assembled, he did one last check to make sure everyone was ready and then told her to launch it.

Stepping away from the SUV, she brought her arm back and then sent the drone sailing into the air.

“Eagle’s away,” she said over the bone microphone in her ear.

Via the drone’s remote control unit, Palmer had it fly two wide circles above the pasture while he tested its responsiveness as well as the feed from its infrared camera.

“Moonracer,” he then said, using Nicholas’s call sign, “Eagle is ready when you are.”

“Roger that,” Nicholas replied from his van back at Harvath’s. Clicking several keys, he then toggled the joystick in front of his monitor for several seconds. Once he was satisfied, he said, “Moonracer has the Eagle. You are good to go.”

Harvath watched as the drone disappeared into the night sky toward Pierre Damien’s estate. Once it was gone, he gave the command to mount up.

As they climbed into the vehicle, he said a silent prayer that they had made it on time.

Something told him, though, that not only had they not been fast enough, but that they were all going to pay for it.