The First Commandment

Even coming in via the water was out of the question. As boring a job as it was standing guard over a location in advance of a presidential visit, the local, state, and federal law enforcement officers who would be there right now would be taking their jobs very seriously. No one ever wanted to have something happen to the president, especially on their watch. Harvath knew that firsthand, and he knew it the hard way, because it had happened to him once.

The more Harvath had thought about it, the more targeting Meg’s wedding made sense. Roussard would get a lot of bang for his buck. Not only could he gain international fame and notoriety for the attack, but the killer could also harm additional people who were very significant to Harvath. There had to be something Harvath could do to stop him.

But first, he had to understand what his play was for Lake Geneva and Meg’s wedding. Did he have access to extra muscle? And just as important, as this was the final plague and seemed to involve the president as well, would his mother, Adara, show?

With payments recently made from her account in Switzerland to the private burn treatment hospital in Italy, Harvath doubted it. If Adara were up to it, she would have been the one hunting him, not her son. Harvath and Adara would have their final dance soon enough, but before that, he needed to stop Roussard once and for all.

The basic questions of what, why, where, when, and how ran through Harvath’s mind as he tried to fit the pieces together.

The what was the attack itself. The why was something Harvath had tried to understand but couldn’t, at least not one hundred percent. Adara Nidal wanted revenge for Harvath’s thwarting her plans to ignite a Muslim holy war with Israel, and she was using her son to exact that revenge. That was the best Harvath could make of it.

The where was the Lake Geneva Country Club and the when was sometime during Meg’s wedding or reception. Her nuptials were set to be one of the social events of the year. Her guest list undoubtedly read like a Who’s Who of Chicago elite. The wealthy, the beautiful, and the powerful would all be there. On top of that, both the mayor of Chicago and the president of the United States would be in attendance. If it was successful, Roussard’s attack would make headlines and be felt around the world.

Harvath had four out of five criteria for stopping Roussard’s attack figured out. He had the what, a good chunk of the why, as well as the where and when. All he needed now was to uncover the how.

Chapter 106

It was a perfect evening. The temperature was in the low seventies, all of the stars were out, and a light breeze was blowing in off the lake.

Meg Cassidy’s friend and next-door neighbor, Jean Stevens, had opened all her doors and windows. This wasn’t the kind of night you wasted by sealing yourself up in your cottage and running the air-conditioner.

They had been blessed with an amazing Indian summer. There was no telling how much longer it would last and Jean Stevens intended to squeeze every last ounce of enjoyment out of the season before she returned to the Chicago suburbs and another interminable Chicago winter.

Refilling her glass with sailboat-shaped ice cubes, she poured herself another vodka and tonic. As she turned to walk back out onto her porch, she got the scare of her life.

Before she could scream, the figure standing in front of her placed his hand over her mouth.

Cautioning her not to make a sound, the man turned out the lights and led her to one of the chairs at her breakfast table.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked as Harvath removed his hand from her mouth and let her sit down. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Surprise,” answered Harvath as he pulled out a chair for himself and sat down.

“Surprise is right. What are you doing here? Meg told me you never RSVPed for the wedding. She had no idea if you were coming or not. It’s rather poor form not to respond, you know, especially when Meg was big enough to invite you. Just because you two didn’t work out is no reason not to be courteous. Wait a second,” she said as she paused. “Where are my manners? Come here and give me a hug.”

Harvath stood and gave her a hug. Jean hadn’t changed a bit. Meg had always referred to her as Auntie Mame meets Lily Pulitzer. She was a warm and endearing character. It was obvious why she and Meg had become such close friends. To know Jean Stevens was to love her.

“So are you here to convince Meg to drop that jackass she’s marrying and run away with you?”

“Todd’s not that bad, Jean,” replied Harvath.

“The hell he isn’t,” said Stevens as she got up to fix Harvath a drink. “He’s manipulative, controlling, overbearing-”

“And he’s also the man she picked to spend the rest of her life with,” stated Harvath as he held up his hand and waved Jean back from the bar.

“Then you’re not here to convince her to marry you instead,” she replied flatly as she retook her seat.

“I’m afraid not.”