Path Of The Assassin

After Morrell finished his briefing, he ran his men through a series of what were known as “exercises on the objective.” The team practiced taking down the inside of the aircraft from every conceivable entry point, as well as some that they hoped the terrorists wouldn’t see coming. They ran through the drills of coming down the aisles with the lights on and then with the lights completely extinguished, assisted by their night-vision goggles. When Morrell was satisfied the men had it completely covered, he dismissed them and they all returned to the upper-deck lounge.

Harvath chose to wander the enormous 747-400 alone, memorizing every detail of its layout. By the time he was done, he knew where every exit, lavatory, galley, and storage compartment was located and how much distance lay between each.

When he was confident that he had taken in as much as he could, Harvath made his way along the main deck into the nose of the aircraft and the first-class section. Much to his delight, he found that the United staff had completely stocked the galley, but someone had failed to inform the SAS team, who were gathered upstairs playing cards, eating bland military MREs, or Meals Ready to Eat, and popping Halcion tablets in preparation for sleep.

While the goat cheese for his salad and his double portion of prime rib were warming up, Harvath checked the AV cabinet, and sure enough, it had been stocked with the latest releases. Well, this beats the hell out of playing old maid with the guys upstairs, he thought to himself. Harvath fired up a movie and set a place for himself, complete with linen tablecloth, at one of the elegant first-class sleeper seats. He seriously considered building a huge hot fudge sundae-all the fixings were there-but decided against it. He was, after all, on duty.

His timing was perfect as he kicked off his shoes, covered himself with one of the cashmere first-class blankets, raised his personal video monitor and settled in for his meal. The movie was just starting. All things considered, this really was the only way to fly.

He had selected what looked like a promising film, a sappy love story, and it had the desired effect. Halfway through, he felt his mind relax and his eyelids grow heavy. As Harvath donned an eye mask and inserted earplugs into his ears, he pressed the button on his armrest and the seat automatically reclined to a completely horizontal bed. His colleagues had always remarked at his gift for being able to quiet his thoughts enough to nod off before any type of mission. It wasn’t so much sleep as it was a Zen-like state of deep relaxation. Harvath always awoke refreshed and extremely focused, his thoughts and emotions perfectly calm.

When he did awaken and peek at his stainless-steel Rolex Explorer II, a quiet gift from the Swiss government for his role with Claudia in nailing the Lions of Lucerne, Scot calculated there were about two more hours before the plane would touch down. He made his way downstairs to the fitness center and closed the door behind him.

After some quick stretching, Harvath did two fast sets of bench presses, followed by curls, then dips and finally some pull-ups. He grabbed a quick shower and shaved with the razor he had found in one of the amenity kits in first class. He headed back upstairs to the galley, where he popped an eggs Benedict breakfast into the oven and poured himself a couple of glasses of fresh orange juice. While he ate his breakfast, he brewed a pot of coffee and threw together a platter of lox, bagels, and cream cheese. Some might have called it a peace offering, but those who knew Scot Harvath would have called it what it really was-a rub-it-in-your-face display of what the unimaginative SAS Team had missed by huddling together in the upper-deck lounge for the entire flight.

Harvath changed into the black Nomex Delta Force fatigues, grabbed the coffee and bagels, and made his way to the upper-deck lounge. Several of the SAS team were wide awake and eating tasteless MRE breakfasts when Harvath came up the stairs. Those that weren’t awake quickly came to when he set the tray down on the bar and the smell of fresh roasted coffee filled the cabin.

“Where’d you get that?” one of the men asked.

“We passed a Starbucks a little while ago and I thought it was the least I could do, seeing how well you treated me last time we all flew together.”

One of the other men, who had already picked up a coffee cup and had the pitcher in his hand, stopped and said, “Wait a second; you didn’t piss in this, did you?”

“Only in Morrell’s,” Scot responded.

The man just stared at Harvath for a moment and then, realizing it was a joke, went back to pouring his coffee.

“There’s juice and pastries down in the first-class galley. I also think I left a little hot water in the fitness-room shower, if anybody wants one.”