Nicholas’s eyes met Harvath’s and remained.
“What?”
“Your name’s on the list.”
“For what?”
The little man shrugged. “It doesn’t say why. But somebody sees you as a serious threat to national security in a time of crisis.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? How many Senators have you pissed off? How many members of Congress? How many intelligence officials? I’m not saying you weren’t right, I’m just saying you have pissed off a lot of people over the years. Apparently, somebody took it very personally.”
“So take my name off the list.”
“I tried.”
“Try again.”
“I can’t,” said Nicholas.
“Why not?”
“Because it flagged your file and locked me out.”
Harvath looked at him. “What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Nicholas was exasperated and embarrassed at the same time. “I tripped something, and suddenly I was swarmed.”
“Swarmed by what?”
“I don’t know, but they knew what they were doing. They were all over me. They were doing things I had never seen before. Not only were they trying to capture my information, they were trying to trap me so that I couldn’t get out.”
“Out of a database?” Harvath replied. “Why didn’t you just kick the cord out of the wall?”
“Seriously?”
“Of course not, but you understand what I’m saying.”
“And you’re not understanding what I’m saying. I have never seen anything this sophisticated. Not with a bank, not with a military, and definitely not with a government.”
Nicholas was upset, and Harvath couldn’t remember ever seeing him like this.
“Relax,” he said. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“I hope so.”
“Hope so?” said Harvath. “You peeled off your name tag before you wandered into their database, right?”
“I always do. In fact I put on somebody else’s.”
Now it was Carlton’s turn to chime in. Nicholas had a bad habit of where he chose to make it look like his hacks had originated from. “Where this time?”
“Second Director’s office, FSB in Moscow.”
The Old Man thought about it, jutted his bottom lip out, and then nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Just as long as it doesn’t link back to you,” Harvath stated.
Nicholas didn’t say anything.
“It’s not going to link back to you, is it?”
“Normally, I’d say no. But these guys weren’t normal. I don’t know what to say.”
Harvath looked at his watch and wondered if it was too early for a drink. He was starting to get a headache. Which reminded him, he needed to take his temperature again and text it to the doctor. Of all the stupid things to have to remember to do, this one took the cake, but the Old Man had insisted and had been riding him like a jockey about it.
Excusing himself, he exited the study and jogged upstairs to his master bath. Removing the thermometer from the drawer where he’d left it that morning, he pulled the cover off and popped it in his mouth. When it beeped, he pulled it out.
He was up just a little over a degree from where he had been. Interesting. But as it was just a degree, he wasn’t going to worry about it.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he texted his temp to the doc and put the thermometer away. After trading texts with Ben Beaman, he returned to the study.
When he came in, Mordechai was on his phone, standing on the other side of the room speaking intensely in Hebrew. Harvath looked over at Sloane who nodded at her own phone sitting nearby. She was recording. Good. He liked Mordechai, but you learned quickly in their business not to trust anyone.
The Israeli pulled the phone away from his ear and said to Harvath, “It’s in Israel. Seventy-five cases and counting. Nine people have bled out, and we’re hearing there may be two to three times as many in the West Bank and Gaza.”
The Old Man, who was seated next to Nicholas on the couch, looked up from his laptop and stated, “It’s popping up everywhere now. Indonesia, Australia, and New Zealand. India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay.”
“They’re talking about shutting down commercial air travel,” Nicholas added.
Probably a little late for that, Harvath thought as he walked over and pulled up a chair next to the Old Man.
“Can you give us a minute?” he asked.
“Sure,” Nicholas replied as he set his laptop down and slid off the couch.
When he had left the study, Harvath leaned in toward the Old Man and said, “I have a jet leaving from Reagan tonight. I’d like you to be on it.”
“Me?” Carlton replied. “Why would I want to do that?”
Harvath loved Reed Carlton like he was his father. And because he loved him so much, often the line between employer and employee got blurred. “I’ve arranged for Lara and her family to be taken someplace safe. I want you to go with them and make sure they’re okay.”
The Old Man chortled. “So you need me for security?”
Harvath didn’t respond.
“Where are you sending them? Up to that fishing lodge in Alaska?”
Harvath shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was.
“It’s okay,” Carlton said. “Your secret destination is safe with me.”
“Except that apparently, it’s not so secret.”
The Old Man smiled. “I’ve been there.”
“When?”
“Before we hired you, we did a thorough background. Jon and Anya provided character references.” He said, leaning in toward Harvath. “They never told you, did they? Good. Trustworthy family. I like them even more now.”
Typical Old Man, thought Harvath. Always at least five steps ahead of everyone else. “Excellent, I’ll make sure they have your favorite bourbon on the plane.”
“Whoa,” Carlton replied, holding his hand up. “I’m not going to Alaska. In fact, I’m not going anywhere.”
“But, sir—”
“No buts. There’s too much work to be done here.”
“Agreed, but you can work from the plane as well as from Alaska. Jon’s lodge is practically a full-on SCIF.”
The Old Man smiled. “If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it?”
Harvath worshipped Reed Carlton. And while he didn’t dwell on it, he lamented the day the Old Man would eventually pass. Carlton was not only an American treasure, but he was the Babe Ruth of the espionage game. In a world of soft, unsophisticated men trapped in perpetual adolescence, he was not only a man’s man, he was a patriot who always put his nation before himself.
Pulling no punches, Harvath gave it to him straight. “Babies and old people, that’s who disease grabs first.”
“Are you saying I’m old?”
“Of course not. I’d never say that. How about other than young?”
“Other than young.” Carlton chuckled at how Harvath had used Arabic phrasing to soften his remark.
“All expenses paid. You can take Marco fishing for salmon. If any bears show up, they’ll go running the minute they see you, so I know he’ll be safe. Everyone wins.”
“Anya does grill the world’s best steak.”
“There you go,” Harvath replied, encouraged. “You don’t even need to pack. Let me know what you need, and I’ll shoot a list to Jon. Everything will be waiting for you.”
“Everything,” Carlton said, “except for Joey.”
Immediately, Harvath felt terrible. It was like a knife had just been punched through his heart.