The First Commandment

Climbing out of the RV, he closed the door and locked it. He walked around to the rear and smiled at the Save water, shower with aSEAL sticker he’d affixed to the bumper. There was one remembering MIAs and one that read My RV Loves Iraqi Gas. Anyone who doubted that Philippe Roussard’s RV belonged in the parking lot of the Bucket of Blood probably would have changed his mind upon seeing his bumper stickers.

Not that it mattered much. Roussard didn’t plan on being there for too long. In fact, he had just pulled a newly acquired motorbike off the platform attached to the rear of the RV when he was approached by two off-duty Virginia Beach PD officers. Though they weren’t in uniform, they had a distinct law enforcement bearing about them that convinced Roussard they were cops.

“Hey, you can’t park that thing here,” said the taller of the two.

Reflexively, Roussard’s hand began to reach for the 9mm Glock hidden beneath his jacket, but he stopped himself.

“Especially not when it smells like that,” replied his female partner. “When was the last time you emptied the holding tank on that thing?”

“It’s been a while,” said Roussard as he forced a smile.

“I’m just kidding you,” said the male cop as he pointed at the motorbike. “That’s a nice Kawasaki you got there.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re living the dream, aren’t you? Nothing but you and the slab. Boy if the guys from BUDs could see you now, eh?”

Roussard politely nodded his head and pulled the motorbike the rest of the way from its carrier platform.

“You haven’t been drinking, have you?” asked the female officer as Roussard removed a set of keys from his front pocket.

“Not at all,” he replied. “I just have a few errands to run. I’ll be back soon.”

There was something about this guy she didn’t like. Sure, he was well-built and good-looking, but those characteristics alone didn’t make a SEAL. “Doc sure is generous when it comes to you guys parking your rigs here.”

“He sure is,” said Roussard, beginning to sense that something might be wrong.

“How long you staying?” the woman asked.

“What difference does it make,” asked her partner. “You interested in this guy or something?”

“Maybe,” the female officer replied. Turning back to Roussard, she asked, “So are you going to be around for a couple of days?”

“No,” said Roussard. “I have to leave tomorrow.”

The woman looked disappointed. “Too bad.”

“Don’t mind her,” replied her partner. “When you come back, we’ll be inside. We’ll buy you a beer.”

Climbing onto the motorcycle, Roussard said, “Sounds good.”

With the bike started, he slipped on his helmet and was about to pull away when the woman placed her hand on his handlebars and said, “What’s your purge procedure?”

“Excuse me?” he responded, anxious to get going.

“Your purge procedure,” the female officer responded.

Roussard’s mind raced for an appropriate answer to the question. He had no idea what the woman was talking about. The way she was touching his handlebars, it had to have something to do with the motorcycle. Having been taught that the simplest lie was always the best, Roussard admitted his ignorance. “I’ve only had this thing about a week. I’m still learning its ins and outs.”

The female Virginia Beach PD officer smiled and stepped away from the motorbike.

As Roussard drove away, her partner asked, “What the hell was that all about? Purge procedure? You don’t really know anything about motorcycles, do you?”

“No, but I know something about SEALs, and that guy wasn’t one. If he was, he’d have known what I was talking about.”

“C’mon,” replied the other cop. “You’re off-duty. Give it a rest.”

The woman looked at him. “That guy didn’t bother you at all?”

“I was in the Army. And judging from his bumper stickers he was or is a squid, so of course he bothers me, but as a resident of Virginia Beach, I’ve learned to live with them.”

The woman shook her head. “What about him parking his van here? Dockery hates RVs. He and Dall’au never let anyone park here overnight. If you’re dumb enough to get shit-faced in their joint, you’d better have come with a plan to get yourself and your car the hell outta here.”

“So what?”

“So something isn’t right.”

The woman’s partner shook his head. “I’m going inside to get a beer.”

“Well, while you’re there,” she said, “find Doc and tell him to come outside. I want to talk with him.”

“And in the meantime what are you going to be doing?”

Pulling a lockpick set from her coat pocket, the female officer replied, “I’m just going to take a little look around.”

Chapter 100

Though Kevin McCauliff was emboldened by the email Harvath had sent him, he still had qualms about carrying out the hack in the light of day. He decided to do it that night when there was lighter traffic on their servers, as well as fewer personnel around who might stumble on to what he was doing and begin asking questions.