Path Of The Assassin

“One of the guys lost a couple of fingers, but for the most part just superficial injuries to exposed arms and legs. The vests and those Kevlar helmets saved them.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently, when Alpha Team breached from down below, there was a short firefight through the stairwell, and then the hijackers dropped a concussion grenade followed by a fucking frag.”

“Jesus. I thought that’s what it was,” said Harvath.

“These guys were very well trained. They only went for chest or head shots and didn’t waste a second between ejecting spent clips and inserting fresh ammunition into their weapons. They knew how to handle themselves in a firefight.”

“Did we get them all? What about Nidal?”

“Too hard to tell at this point. They were dressed just like civilians from what we can tell. Delta’s still evacuating passengers.”

“Have you secured the perimeter?”

“Of course we have. We’ll isolate all of the passengers to make sure none of the hijackers are trying to mix in with them. We’ll go through them one by one. God, this thing turned into a goat fuck,” said Morrell.

“It could have been a lot worse. Next time, let’s leave the Egyptians at home.”

Morrell didn’t like I told you so’ s, no matter how veiled they were, and let Harvath know it. “You know what? If I have anything to say about it, there won’t be a next time. That crap you pulled up on the Jetway was totally unacceptable.”

“What are you talking about?” said Harvath, growing angry with Morrell as well.

“I’m talking about you assaulting one of my men, commandeering his demo sack, and making a jump for this aircraft. All against my orders.”

Scot lowered his voice, but gave it to Morrell with both barrels. “Against your orders, my ass. You couldn’t fucking think straight up there. The Egyptians jumped the gun and it threw your whole plan out of whack. Face it. For all the training you and the rest of your SAS monkeys think you have, hostage-rescue situations require a more delicate touch than you’re capable of. Had we waited for you to come up with another plan, who knows how many of the passengers would be dead right now. Be glad this turned out as well as it did.”

“What I’ll be glad about is confirming that we have taken out Hashim Nidal. I just pray that we got him, so that our little special working relationship here can be over.”

“I can’t wait to get rid of you either.”

Harvath turned to walk up the stairs, but had to wait for a group of passengers being led by a Delta operative to come down. As he looked up, Scot recognized the faces as those he had seen earlier in first class.

“Great, what the hell is this?” said Morrell to the Delta operative when he reached the bottom landing.

“These are the VIP passengers from first class and those who were involved in a direct standoff with the hijackers. We’ve been instructed to see to their secure evac and get them to the EgyptAir clubroom for debriefing. It’s a madhouse upstairs, so we’re taking this group out Alpha Team’s rabbit hole and down the ladder.”

The Delta operative didn’t wait for Morrell’s permission; he didn’t need it. He already had his orders. He politely but forcefully indicated with his weapon that Morrell should back up, and then he waved his group toward the exercise facility.

As Meg Cassidy made her way down the stairs, Scot could tell that his original assessment of her had not been wrong. She was definitely beautiful. She had also definitely been through the ringer. Her eyes were glazed over and she was shaking. As she neared the bottom step, she faltered and fell forward right into Harvath.

He deftly moved his weapon out of the way and caught Meg with his left arm. He helped her regain her feet, but knew that if he let go of her, she would fall to the ground like a rag doll.

“Are you all right?” Scot asked.

Meg didn’t respond.

“What’s happening? Is she okay?” came the voice of Mayor Fellinger as he broke ranks and came back to see what was going on.

“I think she might be in shock, sir,” said Harvath.

“Wait a second. I know you, don’t I?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, we met about a year ago in Chicago at a party fund-raiser.”

“That’s right. I remember you now. You were on President Rutledge’s Secret Service detail, correct?”

“Yes, sir. Agent Scot Harvath.”

“I guess I shouldn’t ask what a U.S. Secret Service agent is doing all the way in Cairo with a Delta Force team, should I?”

“Probably not. You do have quite a memory, though, Mr. Mayor.”

“I never forget a face. Let’s hope Meg here doesn’t either.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harvath, who motioned to one of the Delta guys at the top of the stairway to throw a blanket down to him.

“From what I’ve been told, no one has found the two hijackers dressed in black jumpsuits. They were the ones running the show. They wore masks, but Meg said she saw the face of one of them. She also said she shot him in the head. She’s an amazing woman. We all owe our lives to her.”