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“Joey” was Reed Carlton’s wife, Josephine. Ten years before Harvath had met Carlton, she had suffered a massive stroke, followed by very serious dementia. Everything had been downhill from there.

Joey now lived in a comfortable assisted living facility in northern Virginia not far from the Carltons’ home.

The man wasn’t going to leave his bride, and it made Harvath love him all the more.

“What if I got her on the plane?”

Carlton smiled. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, Scot, but you’re a good man. I wish I could go, but I can’t. And as there’s no way we’re going to uproot Joey and transfer her all the way to Alaska, let’s just let it lie. Okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay. Harvath wanted him on that plane.

The Old Man put his hand on his arm. “This isn’t my first rodeo. If God had wanted to take me, He has had more than ample opportunity.”

Harvath didn’t like it, but he understood it, and smiled back. Carlton was integrity personified. For better or worse, that was the promise he had made. He was a man of his word, a man of honor — and Harvath admired him to no end.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” the Old Man said, pointing at the laptop. “Before Nick got caught tampering with your file, he was able to take a brief look around the Main Core database. He took some screen shots. Apparently, there was a new list, created just over a month ago. I think you need to see it.”

“Why? Who’s on it?”

“I’ll let Nick show you,” said Carlton as the little man came back into the study, his mug filled with hot coffee.

Balancing the mug on the end table, he climbed back up onto the couch.

“Show Scot that last screen grab you showed me,” the Old Man said.

Nicholas keyed in his password and then tilted the screen so Harvath could see it.

Seeing the first name, Harvath exclaimed, “That’s the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.”

“Keep reading,” Carlton advised.

“The next four are United States Senators, followed by a handful of Congress people. What the hell are they all doing on the list?”

“That’s what I was wondering.”

“I thought Main Core was for civilians. Why would you add all these people, and why now?” Harvath asked.

“Somebody, maybe Damien or Linda Landon, sees them as a threat. They’ve been color-coded for detention, Gold, same as you.”

“But out of nine SCOTUS justices, why just the Chief Justice? I agree he’s outspoken when it comes to limiting the scope of government power, but what about the other justices who vote with him the majority of the time? Why aren’t they on the list?”

“And why only those particular Senators and Congresspeople?” the Old Man replied, answering a question with a question. “They’re also outspoken, I’ll give you that, but there are others who are just as loud.”

None of it made any sense. What the hell were Damien and Landon up to?

“We need to warn them,” said Harvath. “They need to know about the list and the fact that they’re on it.”

“Then what?”

“Then they can decide what they want to do. But at least they’ll know something may be coming.”

“Who’s going to call them?” Carlton asked. “You? Me? And assuming we could track them down, why would they listen to either of us?”

He had a point. What’s more, none of them was going to like hearing they were on the list. They would take it as an incredible affront and be out for scalps and political blood. What would stop them from calling their own contacts at the Department of Homeland Security and elsewhere in order to get to the bottom of it? It was a dangerous gamble that could result in Damien accelerating whatever else he might have planned.

“What if McGee called them?”

“The CIA Director?”

Harvath nodded. “He’ll tell them it’s a matter of national security and that they can’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

“Okay,” the Old Man said after thinking about it for a moment. “Let’s shoot this information to him.”

“I’m on it,” said Nicholas, as he closed his laptop and prepared to return to his van.

As he slid down from the couch, Harvath heard his driveway alarm chime. Looking up at the TV, he saw Palmer coming onto the property. He was going to have a lot of supplies to unload.

“Do you need any help?” Carlton asked as Harvath stood up.

“No thanks,” Harvath replied. “Why don’t you bring Mordechai up to speed when he gets off his call.”

Stepping into the hall, he caught up with Nicholas and said, “Hold on a second.”

The little man turned. “What’s up?”

“I have a private jet coming in tonight. I think you should put Nina on it. If you want to get on too, I’ll understand. You can take the dogs with you.”

“Alaska?”

Harvath nodded.

“And if I say no?”

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

The little man smiled. “I like those odds.”

Harvath smiled back. There was a time where Nicholas would have already fled, concerned only for himself. Regardless of what Mordechai or anyone else thought, Harvath knew a leopard could change its spots. He had seen it with his own eyes.

“Call Nina,” he said. “Get her packed. We’ll send somebody to pick her up.”

Nicholas extended his small hand. “Thank you. I’ll feel better knowing she’s safe.”

Watching the little man walk away, Harvath felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Safe didn’t exist anymore — not when it came to a virus. They could hole up in the middle of nowhere, but would they really be safe?

As far as Harvath was concerned, safe was a lie. All it did was make people feel better. He didn’t want to be safe from the virus, he wanted to stop the virus.

Multiple plans of action had been pinging inside his brain, vying for attention. None of them were good. All of them were dangerous and outside the rule of law. They fell into only two categories — bad and worse — and the President would have said no to all of them.

The President, though, was in the hospital, and a tsunami was about to hit the beach. There was only one course of action Harvath could take.

CHAPTER 45

CLIFTON FARM

Pierre Damien stood at the edge of the pool in all of his naked glory.

“Very handsome,” Helena stated. “Can you turn for the judges, please? Let’s see what fills out the back of those jeans.”

Smiling, he dove into the illuminated water with a powerful splash.

His muscular arms rose like shark’s fins as he raced toward the glorious, naked woman at the other end.

Stroke after stroke, he pulled himself toward her, getting more aroused the closer he came. He couldn’t wait to ravish her.

She was lounging in the shallow end, and the water barely covered her breasts. Their time together was growing short. He was amazing, and she was going to miss him, but she vowed to think happy thoughts every time she reflected upon her bank balance.

Coming to a stop just in front of her, he stood.

For all of the crappy assignments the Mossad had ever given her, at least this last one had been halfway decent.

Reaching for him, she pulled him close and smiled. Pierre was in rare form. He hadn’t had much to drink, yet. He was still tipsy from lunch, but not much. He wanted to make love, and they would. Probably twice.

He had been good to her, but he was also a monster. What he had planned for mankind was beyond horrible. She was beyond caring, though. She had lost that ability a long time ago. Life was cruel. If it ever gave you an opportunity, you took it. You made something of it or you didn’t.