After making love, they grabbed their thick white robes from where they had left them on the chairs. She took her phone from the pocket, wanting to capture a picture of him, but Damien was famished and hurried them inside.
A tray of charcuterie, his favorite snack, was already waiting for them in the TV room along with a decanted red wine.
Damien held up the bottle and showed it to her. “Romanée-Conti,” he said. “Nineteen forty-five.”
“The last year of World War II,” she replied.
“And the founding of the United Nations. From fifty-one original member states to a hundred ninety-three today.”
He poured glasses for both of them. After admiring the color, the aromas, and the bouquet, he lifted his glass and recited a UN motto, “To peace and security.”
She met his glass with her own. “To peace and security.”
It was another outstanding wine. After taking a sip, she set it down on the table and prepared two plates.
Jeffery had laid out a stunning array of pâtés, terrines, prosciutto, dry sausage, salami, and cheeses. There were three different kinds of breads, pickled vegetables, mustard, olive tapenade, nuts, and fruits.
While she worked on the plates, Damien turned on the TV. On almost every channel, there were scenes of reporters in front of various hospitals.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” Damien responded. He was as good a liar as she was.
Handing him his plate, she sat down on the couch next to him and tucked her feet underneath her to keep them warm. Damien turned up the volume.
“… a virus public health officials are likening to Ebola,” the newscaster said. “Tonight we have team coverage across the country. We begin in the nation’s capital.”
The pair sat there watching as reporters at hospitals coast to coast tried to put together the breaking story from the pieces of information that were beginning to stream in.
After a while, Damien muted the TV and reached for more wine.
“So,” Helena said. “Looks like it’s not a meteor after all.”
Damien smiled. “We’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
She was about to respond when Jeffery appeared in the doorway and asked to speak with Pierre. Damien waved him in, but Jeffery requested he step out into the hallway.
Damien excused himself as he stood up and walked across the room. As soon as he stepped into the hall, Jeffery began speaking and reached to pull the door closed, cutting her out of the conversation.
As he did, she noticed pieces of something in his other hand, and her heart leapt into her throat.
Jeffery not only had her cell phone charger, but he had completely disassembled it.
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.