Blowback

“After-action reports, “He said proudly as he handed her the dossier. “After-action reports for off-the-books, black ops assignments that supposedly never existed.”

“How’d you get your hands on these?” asked the senator as she flipped through the pages. “Nobody just leaves intelligence like this lying around.”

“It was hardly lying around,” said Turner, feeling cocky. He was doing exactly what he needed to do to seal a position in her cabinet. He was proving himself indispensable. “Basically, it all comes down to having the right access and the correct knowledge. I’ve been at the agency long enough to develop both.”

The senator tried to mask how excited she was to get her hands on such valuable information. As she continued reading, she asked, “And Scot Harvath played a role in these off-the-books assignments?”

“They allude to someone who I definitely believe is Harvath,” replied Turner.

“How about the president? Can we tie him to any of these operations?”

“Not yet,” said the CIA man, “but once I can put Harvath in the picture, I think we’ll have the president as well.”

“How much longer?”

“If things continue to pan out, I think we’re only talking a matter of days. Possibly by the end of the week.”

The senator thought about the press cycle, her hearings, and the announcement she was going to make that both the president and his chief of staff had been served. This additional information was exactly what she had been counting on. “Whatever it takes,” she said, “do it. And do it fast.”

FIFTY-ONE

ITALY

With the French police hopefully searching the valley beneath Ristolas for their bodies, Harvath pulled a map from the glove box and plotted the shortest possible route into Italy.

As France and Italy were both EU member countries, the only thing stopped at their respective border these days was the occasional truck. Even so, Harvath still wanted to be careful and chose a narrow, low-profile route that wound its way through the Alps and eventually deposited them in the Piemonte region’s Po River Valley-not far from where Hannibal ’s army engaged the first Roman legions.

Soon, they neared Turin, and though he and Jillian were both tired, they agreed the wisest choice was to push on to Milan and put as much distance between them and the French authorities as possible.

With its street crime, prostitutes, and drug dealers, Milan was second only to Naples as the seediest city in Italy. While Harvath had always given the fashion industry’s tacky capital the widest berth possible, he was happy to find a mid-grade, chain business hotel near the city center. The desk clerk, who suspected Harvath was on a jaunt with his attractive mistress, was more than happy to ignore protocol and accept two nights’ lodging in cash along with a hefty tip, in lieu of the presentation of any formal identification.

As he soaked under a steaming hot shower, Jillian went across the street to an all-night café for sandwiches and coffee. When she returned, she found Harvath on the edge of the bed, going through the bag Khalid Alomari had left in the trunk of his car. “Anything interesting?” she asked as she handed Harvath a sandwich.

“You’ll love this, “He replied. “Along with a prayer mat and a copy of the Koran, he had extra ammo, several very nasty-looking knives, and a garrote wire.”

Jillian shuddered. “Death and religion, what a juxtaposition.”

“That’s the way these people operate. Not all Muslims are terrorists, but without fail all terrorists are Muslims. There’s a war raging within their religion. The moderate Muslim faith is under siege by the Wahhabi extremists of Saudi Arabia. That’s what gave birth to bin Laden and al-Qaeda. They want to take over the world and they’ll do whatever is necessary to make their goal a reality.”

Despite the glass of wine she had downed at the café across the street, Jillian was still numb from killing Khalid Alomari. But the more she heard about what a monster he and his kind were, the better she began to feel about what she had done.

“We need to establish our priorities,” said Harvath as he reached for one of the coffees.

“That’s easy,” replied Jillian. “The tissue samples. We’ve got to get them to the Whitcombs as soon as possible.”

“I agree, but I also want the people working on this in my government to get a look at them. “Glancing up at Jillian, he added,” Vanessa and Alan are good people, and I don’t want to see anything happen to them.”

“Neither do I.”

“Good. I’d like to arrange for them to get away from Durham for a little bit. Even though we’ve taken care of Alomari, there’s no knowing who he might have talked with and if the Whitcombs are in any danger.”

Jillian had not considered that possibility and was obviously concerned. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’d like to have them moved to a special military base where they can continue their work on this case and where they’ll be completely safe.”

“An American military base?”

“Yes. Fort Detrick, Maryland.”