The Last Patriot

He hated being put in this position and resented the hell out of everyone involved, including Tracy, for putting him there. But regardless of how he felt about Rutledge and what had gone on between them, he couldn’t turn his back on what needed to be done. At the end of the day, Harvath always did the right thing. It was who he was, no matter how many times he’d been kicked in the teeth for it.

Finally he replied, “What do you need me to do?”

Rutledge’s sense of relief was evident in his tone of voice. “First, we need to get you up to speed on everything that has happened including who we believe is targeting Professor Nichols.”

“And then?”

“Then we need to figure out how the hell we’re going to get you and that book out of the country and back home as quickly as possible.”

CHAPTER 49

Anthony Nichols had arrived in Paris on a commercial flight, and that was exactly how Rutledge had planned on getting him back to the United States. There had been no margin of error built into the plan in case things went wrong. It wasn’t how a proper operation was run, but Harvath couldn’t blame the president. Rutledge wasn’t an operator.

He was, though, extremely tight when it came to operational security. Normally, that was a good thing, but in this instance it meant that there were scant few resources he could tap for help.

After his last phone call with Gary Lawlor, Harvath had learned two things. The first was that Dr. Marwan Khalifa had been fully vetted by the president and neither he nor Lawlor believed the Koranic scholar had anything to do with the attempts on Anthony Nichols’s life. For now, Harvath was going to have to take them at their word.

The other thing was that President Rutledge wasn’t going to be able to get him and the professor out of the country any time soon. Harvath knew that the longer they remained in France, the greater their chances were of getting caught. He had to come up with his own plan and once he did, the first call he made was to Finney and Parker at the Sargasso Program.

“Yeah, we’ve got a cobbler in Paris,” replied Tim Finney. “But she doesn’t just play both sides of the fence, she plays both sides of the porch, the driveway, the front yard-”

“I get it,” interrupted Harvath. “How good is she?”

“Excellent and she charges like it too.”

“I’m going to need two passports right away, tonight.”

There was a loud noise as Finney pursed his lips and sucked in a big breath of air. “That’s going to be expensive.”

“I know,” replied Harvath. “Good, fast, and cheap-pick any two.”

“Do you want them to be U.S.?”

“No. The French are going to be scrutinizing American passports very closely. Make them Canadian. Entrance to France seven days ago. Medium amount of international stamps and travel visas, all to first- and second-world countries. We’ll also need a couple of credit cards. Brand doesn’t matter. We’ll take whatever blanks she has.”

“What about photos?” asked Finney.

“I’m going to get to work on those now,” said Harvath. “I’ll post them in the usual place along with aliases and physical descriptions.”

“Okay, I’ll get on this right away. I’ll have her put it on my account and we’ll settle up later. You do have access to funds, right?”

“Yes,” replied Harvath remembering the private account the president had established for Nichols. “I’ll make sure you get reimbursed.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Scot,” said Finney. “It’s just that we’re talking about some pricey work here.”

“Understood.”

“The passports will be left at a dead drop. As soon as they’re ready, she’ll let us know where you can pick them up. How about on your end? Anything else you need?”

Harvath prioritized the other items in his mind. “We’re going to need a private jet as soon as the passports are ready,” he said. “Preferably something with a discreet pickup service.”

“Destination?”

“Montreal for the flight plan, but once we’re safely on our way, we’ll need to change for D.C.”

“That’s doable,” said Finney.

“And one other thing,” replied Harvath. “I’ve got a problem bound and gagged in one of the staterooms that needs to be dealt with, but not until we’re gone.”

Finney didn’t like the sound of that. “Dealt with how?”

“Somebody just needs to open the cage and let him out. Chances are the cops will pick him up within half an hour. By that point, I don’t care what he does or says.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Only if you’re a bag of heroin or a fashion editor.”

“Okay,” said Finney. “I’ll have someone check in on him once I know you’re out of French airspace. That’s it, then?”

“That’s it,” replied Harvath.

Two hours later, Harvath was back aboard the péniche. With him was a digital camera he had lifted off a tourist near Notre Dame and several plastic bags filled with items he and Nichols would need to disguise themselves.