Code of Conduct

CHAPTER 3

The first soldier who approached their Land Cruiser appeared nervous, distraught. He clutched his AK-47 in both hands. “Médecins?” he asked, gesturing with his weapon. Doctors? French was the official language of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

“Oui,” Harvath answered from behind Asher. “Médecins.” His grade school had been run by an order of French nuns. Next to sports, French had been one of the few things he had excelled at.

“Allez,” the soldier ordered, grabbing the handle and jerking open Harvath’s door. “Descendez.” Get out.

“Everyone stays in the vehicles,” Asher commanded.

“No,” the soldier said in broken English. “Doctor now.”

Before anyone could react, Jessica Decker had opened her door and was stepping out.

“Stop,” Harvath ordered her, but it was too late.

“I’m the doctor,” Decker stated.

The soldier looked back at Harvath. “Vous n’êtes pas le médecin?” You’re not the doctor?

“Moi, je suis—”

Decker interrupted Harvath. “I told you,” she said, as she grabbed a medical kit from her pack, “I’m the doctor.”

The soldier slammed Harvath’s door shut and started walking around to the other side.

“Dr. Decker, I want you back in this vehicle right now,” Ash instructed through Mick’s window.

Ash and Mick were both wearing “bone phones,” earpieces connected to radios hidden under their shirts that transmitted speech through bone conduction technology. Eddie and Simon must have asked for a situation report because Harvath heard Mick say, “Figuring that out now. Stand by.”

“Someone needs a doctor,” Decker stated with an air of haughtiness. “That’s what I do.”

“And what I do is keep people safe,” Ash replied. “Whoever this someone is, they can wait five more minutes while we negotiate this. You’re not going anywhere.”

“These are soldiers from the Congolese army.”

“We don’t know that. Now get back in the vehicle.”

Decker ignored him and walked forward.

He was about to reiterate his order when he heard the door behind him open up and Harvath stepped out.

Immediately, the other soldiers raised their weapons.

The lead soldier spun and angrily pointed his AK at Harvath. “Que faites-vous?” he demanded. What are you doing?

“Everybody relax,” Decker said as she put her hands out, appealing for calm. She glared at Harvath. It was a good question. What the hell was he doing? From inside the Land Cruisers, the Brits were thinking the same thing.

“Je suis l’assistant du médecin,” Harvath stated, donning a headlamp he had retrieved from his bag. I am the doctor’s assistant. He turned the lamp on and swung his head from side to side — blinding several of the soldiers with its intense glare. They threw their arms up to shield their eyes and cursed at him.

“Si nous avons besoin de l’assistant d’un médecin, nous vous appellerons.” If we need a doctor’s assistant, the lead soldier barked, we’ll call you. “Retournez dans votre véhicule.” Get back in your vehicle.

With that, the man grabbed Jessica Decker by the arm and steered her toward the jungle.

Facing a row of angry men with AK-47s, Harvath did the only thing he could do at the moment. Reluctantly, he climbed back into the Land Cruiser.

“She’s insane,” Ash stated.

Harvath had already developed his own opinion about Decker, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. “Look at their shoes,” he said.

The SAS men did as he suggested.

“None of their boots match. Two of them are wearing tennis shoes.”

Ash cursed under his breath. “The uniforms may be from the Congolese army, but these guys definitely aren’t.”

“So who are they?” Mick wondered.

Harvath nodded at the two rebels closest to them. “Both of them, as well as the guy Dr. Decker just walked off with have the same tattoo. Looks like a cobra.”

“Shit,” Ash replied. “Rebels. FRPI.”

There were so many rebel groups in Congo, it was hard to tell the players without a scorecard. Harvath had uploaded a list of them to his phone before leaving and had tried to study up as much as he could on the flight over.

“Free Republic of—” he attempted before Mick interrupted him.

“Front for Patriotic Resistance of Ituri,” he said, looking at the uniformed men. “Based out of Bunia. I’ve never heard any reports of them being along this road, much less posing as Congolese regulars. They must be desperate for cash.”

They were desperate for something, Harvath thought. “How bad is this group?”

“The FRPI? Pretty bad. Rape, mass murder, drugs. You name it. But the tattoo is the problem. These guys are a unit of shock troops. Kind of like a republican guard. They do everything from protecting high-ranking FRPI leadership, to terrorizing civilians.”

“Which probably explains why they’re out here with an injured patient and not back at the hospital in Bunia. This is not going to end well.”

“We don’t know that,” Mick offered.

“Listen, these rebels just hit the jackpot. They not only now have a doctor, they have a very attractive female doctor. They’re not going to give her back. That goes double if whoever needs the medical care is a high-ranking rebel with a price on his head.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Mick asked with his eyes focused on the rebels.

“What if I’m not?” said Harvath.

“Then they’re going to want to get rid of us,” Ash stated.

“We’re already outgunned. All they’d have to do is bury our bodies and torch the trucks. Wouldn’t be the first time it had happened in Congo, right?”

“No, particularly not where the FRPI is concerned.”

“So the longer we sit here,” Harvath continued. “The worse our odds get. At some point soon, an order is going to come over that radio and they’re going to open fire on us. We need to get off the X right now. What kind of weapons do we have?”

“Torch the trucks. Get off the X. What kind of weapons do we have… Who the hell are you?” Mick demanded as he turned around to face him.

“I’m the client.”

Ash studied Harvath in the rearview mirror, and Harvath met his gaze. Alpha dogs always recognized another Alpha when they saw one. He was no ordinary client. They had known that from the moment they first met him.

Harvath couldn’t keep them completely in the dark. If they were going to get out of this alive, they were going to have to work together. He would have to give them something.

“CARE sent me to assess the situation,” he said. “They want to open two more facilities in Congo.”

“What kind of assessment?”

“Security.”

“And your background?”

“SEAL Team Two and then DEVGRU.”

Ash continued to hold Harvath’s gaze. Finally, he said, “You look it.”

Harvath didn’t know what the remark was supposed to mean. Before he could reply, Ash said, “We’ve got two Glock 17s up front with us and there’s a shotgun under your seat.”

“Can I get to it without flipping it up?”

“No. Besides, it’s too loud. There’s no telling how many more of them are up the road or out in the jungle. It would just draw them in.”

“And the Glocks won’t?” Harvath asked.

Ash nodded to Mick, who pointed over Harvath’s shoulder and said, “There’s a box of car parts behind you. Inside are two inline fuel filters. They’ve been modified with a thread adaptor to screw onto the Glocks.”

Homemade suppressors. Smart.

“What else do you have?”

“The Brute Squad have Glocks, as well as rifles,” Ash replied.

“What kind of rifles?”

“AKs, like our friends outside.”

“Can you slip me your Glocks without them noticing?”

Mick turned his shaved head back around and focused on the soldiers. Slowly, he began to work his pistol between the seat and the center console. Ash then did the same.

Careful not to draw any attention, Harvath reached behind his seat and felt for the box of car parts. Once he found it, he removed the two filters. He also grabbed the extra medical bag.

“What are you thinking?” Ash asked.

Harvath began screwing the makeshift suppressors onto each of the Glocks. “See the third soldier on the left?” he said. “The one with the dirty bandage around his left hand? That dressing probably hasn’t been changed in a while, if at all. I think that’s our best chance to get me close to them.”

“And?”

“I get him into your headlights to examine his hand. If I can, I enlist two of his comrades to help, give them stuff to hold and keep them busy. When I give you the signal, you flip on your high beams, I pull one of the Glocks, and we go hot. Anything driver’s side is mine.”

“And Mick takes out the rest.”

Harvath nodded.

“What about the others? We have no idea how many more are out there.”

“We’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.”

Ash thought about it for a second. “What do you want to use for your signal?”

Harvath slid Mick’s pistol back to him. Removing some items from the medical bag, so he could stash the remaining suppressed Glock, he took out a penlight. Cupping his hand around it to hide the beam, he checked to make sure it worked.

“When you see me pull out the penlight, watch for two quick flashes. Once that happens, wait ten seconds and then hit your high beams and come out firing.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” said Harvath.

Ash quietly radioed the plan to the Brute Squad. Once they had acknowledged, he looked at Harvath in the rearview mirror and nodded.

It was time to roll.