Path Of The Assassin

As he neared the carpeted stairs that connected the lower-level workout facility with the main level and upper deck, Harvath saw two bodies slumped together across seats 16 A and B. Carefully, he rolled the top body off the one beneath. There was blood everywhere. The man on top was of Middle Eastern descent and had been shot in the throat. But by whom? Harvath wondered. He still couldn’t see or hear any trace of the Alpha Team.

Beneath the Middle Easterner lay the almost lifeless body of another man, who appeared to be a passenger. He had taken two rounds to the chest, but was still alive-barely. Harvath found a blanket nearby and after folding it, quickly applied it to the man’s wounds as a makeshift pressure bandage.

“Is he okay? Is he alive?” came a voice from behind him in the aisle.

With his MP5 up and ready, Scot whirled and locked the little red dot of his laser sight onto the forehead of one of the female passengers. Harvath couldn’t believe his ears. With almost all of the passengers running for their lives, this woman wanted to know if another passenger was going to make it.

“He’s pretty bad. Come over here and keep the pressure on this blanket. Don’t let him lose any more blood.”

Georgia Bormann did as she was told, and as she took over for Harvath, a faint whisper escaped Bernard Walsh’s lips. “Find, Meg. Help her.”

Harvath had no idea what the man was talking about, nor did he have time to figure it out. The aircraft was not yet secure. Hashim Nidal was somewhere on board. Scot could smell him. This wouldn’t be over until he had him in his sights and made him pay for all of the killing he had been responsible for.

With Bormann tending to Walsh, Harvath made his way to the carpeted stairwell. Carefully, he looked over the railing down toward the workout facility. Between choking waves of smoke, he could see three bodies lying motionless on the ground. Part of Alpha Team was down. As much as Harvath wanted to help them, he couldn’t. There were still hijackers aboard and it was his job to find them.

He decided to move forward, up to the first-class section, and as he passed the main forward door, he noticed that it was indeed wired with explosives. He took a red paint marker from his pocket and drew a fat X on the door’s porthole-style window, warning any teams on the other side not to use the door, as it was rigged from the inside with explosives.

When Harvath got into the first-class section, he looked from right to left with his NODs and was amazed. It was completely empty. No United CEO, no Chicago mayor, nothing. His first thought was that maybe they had all evacuated. As he was sweeping the cabin again with his night-vision goggles, he heard, “Now!”

Immediately, he was blinded by a powerful emergency flashlight that had been turned on him. Once again, he reflexively hit the deck. It took him a moment to clear the spots from his eyes, but when his vision returned, he could see that the first-class passengers had been hiding behind their seats waiting in ambush. Now he looked up at no fewer than six submachine gun muzzles pointing down at him.

“Drop your weapons. Do it now!” commanded Harvath, raising his MP5.

“Identify yourself,” said one of the voices.

“Delta Force. Now, put that flashlight and your weapons down. I’m not going to tell you again,” said Harvath as he pushed himself to his feet. With his right hand still holding his MP5, he used his left to tear a Velcro’d piece of fabric from his right upper arm area. Underneath was a bright red, white, and blue American flag.

“We’re here to get you out,” he continued. “Is everyone okay?”

“Everybody’s okay,” said Mayor Fellinger, who tilted his head in Meg Cassidy’s direction. “Thanks to her.”

Even through his goggles he could tell the woman was beautiful. She had been put through the ringer, but she was still gorgeous. He tore his mind away from the vision in front of him and got back to business. “I don’t know how you got those weapons,” he said, “but I want you to set them down.”

“Set them down?” said the United CEO, confused.

“There are Egyptian commandos entering the aft of the aircraft as we speak. We don’t want any of you folks to get confused for hijackers and shot,” replied Harvath. “Now drop those weapons and get yourselves down on the ground between the seats. This thing isn’t over yet. Don’t move until someone comes for you.”

“And what about you?” asked Meg Cassidy, her eyes riveted on Harvath.

“Me? I’ve got a bone to pick with someone whose parents should have practiced better birth control. Now, everybody on the floor.”

After a moment of studying the mix of sheer determination and icy calm written across his face, Meg followed suit with the rest of the people around her, setting her weapon on a nearby seat and getting down on the floor.