The First Commandment

“First,” responded Harvath, “I don’t see how things could get much worse for me. And second, I didn’t pull a gun on you, I cocked one that wasn’t even pointed in your direction.”

“I’ll make sure to note that subtlety when I report this meeting to the president.”

“I know we’re in a steam room, but let’s not jerk each other off, okay?”

“Listen,” replied Vaile, “we both know what this is about. The president was forced to make a deal with the devil and-”

“And the people I care about are the ones who are paying for it.”

“We had no idea things were going to turn out this way.”

Harvath was ready to punch the DCI’s lights out. “But now that they have, I don’t see anybody doing a hell of a lot to stop it.”

“You don’t know the first thing about what we’re doing,” snapped Vaile.

“What do you mean we?”

“The president asked me to put a covert team on the case.”

“He assigned a CIA team inside the United States?” asked Harvath. “In addition to the FBI?”

Vaile held up his palms. “The president wanted hefty counterterrorism experience on this and that’s what I gave him.”

“But they haven’t made much progress, have they?”

Vaile didn’t bother responding. It was painfully obvious that his people hadn’t made much progress.

“Were Morrell and his Omega Team in charge of that too?”

The DCI shook his head. “No. We fielded a separate team. I picked them myself. They’re all solid operators with Spec Ops experience, there’s just not enough for them to go on.”

Harvath shook his head. “And you saved Rick Morrell for the real dirty work so that you could use our friendship against me, didn’t you?”

“It was the fastest way to get the information we needed.”

“I should have known better.”

The DCI took a deep breath and then let it out. “Scot, negotiating with these terrorists was a bad choice, but it was the only choice the president had. We weren’t going to let these animals kill American kids. And we’re still not. That’s why you’ve got to turn yourself in.”

It wasn’t an easy call. Harvath didn’t want to provoke terrorist attacks on American children, but the fact that Vaile’s people hadn’t made any progress in catching the person responsible for hunting his loved ones only served to reinforce his decision. “I’m not stopping until I nail this fucker.”

“Even if it means you’re putting countless American lives on the line?”

Harvath was tempted to tell the DCI what he’d learned from Tammam Al-Tal in Jordan -that his operative, Najib, had been sprung from Gitmo in exchange for Al-Tal relinquishing his contract on Harvath, but at this point he was in no mood to share intelligence with anyone, especially the director of the CIA. Instead he said, “Whoever this guy is, he came looking for me. I didn’t start this.”

“Either way,” replied Vaile, “the president gave his word that we wouldn’t go after these men once they were released from Guantanamo.”

“One of them has attacked Americans on American soil. That right there should invalidate any deal the president made. As far as I’m concerned, these five shouldn’t be handed a get out of jail free card for the rest of their lives.”

“I agree with you,” said the DCI. “They shouldn’t, but there’s only one left now.”

Harvath didn’t understand. “One?”

“You killed Palmera and Najib, and we’ve recently located two others.”

“Which two?” asked Harvath. “Where are they?”

“ Morocco and Australia,” said Vaile. “They’re under surveillance and are very close to being picked up by those countries for engaging in terrorist activity since their release from Gitmo. Which leaves-”

“The fifth detainee released that night. The Frenchman.”

Chapter 76

The DCI nodded. “His name is Philippe Roussard. A sniper by training, he was also known as Juba. Before we caught him, he’d made quite a name for himself in Iraq; over one hundred confirmed kills of American service personnel.”

“That’s who’s killing my friends and family?” responded Harvath, searching his memory banks for the names and coming up empty.

Vaile nodded again.

Harvath’s anger was rising once more. “I can’t fucking believe this. You know who the hell this guy is and still you’re not doing anything to nail his ass to the wall.”

Vaile didn’t want to get into a pissing match with Harvath, so he changed the subject. “Did you know that I had a nephew who was killed in Iraq?”

“No, I didn’t,” replied Harvath, trying to get his temper under control. “I’m sorry.”

“For obvious reasons, our family and the Marines kept the relationship secret. As it turns out, Roussard was the one who killed him. He had no idea, of course. My nephew was just another infidel crusader to that scumbag; another American notch on his rifle butt.

“Even in death we kept my nephew’s relationship to me hidden. The last thing we wanted to do was hand the insurgency such a high-profile victory, especially since Juba, or Roussard, had reached almost mythical status for being untouchable and able to kill anyone he wanted.”