Path Of The Assassin

“I am. Listen, I understand what you’re feeling and I want you to remember something.” Meg was silent. Harvath gently lifted her chin with his other hand until she was looking him in the eyes. “You are not alone in this. I’m going to be right next to you every step of the way. No matter what happens, you’ll only have to look over and there I’ll be.”

“You promise?” asked Meg as she wiped away the beginnings of the tears she was so desperately trying to keep at bay.

“I promise.”

Finally, she couldn’t hold back anymore and the tears came on full force. Harvath wrapped his arms tightly around her and held Meg Cassidy as she cried.

She felt so good in his arms-her hair against his neck, the smell of her skin. Harvath knew he was in dangerous territory. Eventually, the tears stopped, but neither wanted to break the embrace. Finally, Meg stepped back and reached for the box of Kleenex on his desk. “Able to take out a plane full of hijackers, but cries at the drop of a hat. What a lethal combination, huh?” said Meg, drying her eyes and feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I think you’re just hungry,” answered Harvath, realizing their moment had passed, angry with himself for what he was feeling. “What about dinner?”

“I guess I could eat something.”

“That’s the right attitude. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen,” said Harvath as he swept his hand in front of him and indicated that Meg should lead the way.

While Harvath rummaged through the cabinets, Meg had the base operator track down Rick Morrell. She requested he check on the condition of her people still in the hospital back in Chicago. Five minutes later, Morrell called back. The news was good. Their conditions remained guarded, but improved, especially Judy’s. Meg was relieved to hear it. They were overdue for a piece of good news.

As she hung up the phone, Meg filled Scot in on what she had been told. She then resolved that no matter how long it took, no matter what she had to do, she wouldn’t rest until Hashim Nidal had been put out of business.

Harvath nodded his head in agreement and went back to preparing dinner. Meg Cassidy had turned the corner, and that was good, but she had no idea what still lay ahead of them.

36

The next morning, Meg was up before anyone else. She was in the lodge reading the morning paper by the time Harvath finished working out and had found her. “So what’s it going to be today?” he said as he sat across from Meg and placed two cups of coffee on the table. “Horseback riding or sailing lessons?”

“I wish,” replied Meg. “I have a physical scheduled, so I’ll have to pass on the coffee for now.”

“Pass? Why?”

“They’re going to do a blood draw, and I am supposed to have had nothing to eat or drink except water since midnight.”

Harvath took a sip of his coffee and made a face. “Don’t worry, the coffee’s not that great.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Yeah, you got me. It’s actually pretty good. The DEA guys probably bring it up from South America. So what fun does Camp Harvey Point have in store for you later?” asked Harvath as he withdrew his copy of Meg’s schedule from his pocket. “Ooh, there’s a fitness assessment after lunch. Somebody planned that one well.”

“They sure did. What kind of a torture farm is this? No food after midnight and then once they do let me eat, they’ve got a fitness test planned right after it?”

“I know it might seem excessive,” said Scot, mimicking Rick Morrell, “but I can assure you this schedule exists for your safety and the security of the facility.”

Meg smiled. Harvath was glad to see her doing better.

“What’s on tap for tonight?” she asked.

“Well, it looks like that’s going to depend upon how long they keep you looking at mug shots.”

“Mug shots? Is that what this undetermined block of time is set up for this afternoon?”

“Yup. They’re going to have you review pictures and descriptions of known and suspected terrorists from some of the world’s biggest databases.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“As long as you’re in an air-conditioned room, count your blessings. I can’t believe how hot it is down here.”

“And humid,” added Meg.

“How’d you sleep last night?”

“Great, why?”

“So your air conditioner works fine?”

“It did last night. Didn’t yours?”

“No,” said Harvath, a sneaking suspicion creeping over him. “For some reason, mine’s on the blink.”

“Why don’t you ask Morrell to look into it for you.”

“I would, if I thought it would actually do any good.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a smart-ass to him, he’d be willing to help you.”

“You don’t know Rick Morrell the way I do.”

“I don’t need to. He’s a person, for crying out loud, and wants to be treated with respect.”

“I agree, but respect is not a given; it has to be earned.”

“Men! Everything is a competition with you.”

“That’s not true,” said Harvath, who noticed that Morrell had entered the lodge and was making his way over to their table. “Listen, try and find out for me what room Morrell is in today, would you please?”

“His room? Why?”

“Never mind, just try to find out, okay?”

“Sure, but-”