He waited for the kid to say something, but nothing came, so Harvath said, “All of the men I worked with were good, honorable men who had shed blood for their country. They’re dead now, murdered by the same people who sent you here to kill us.”
It caused the kid a lot of pain, but he tilted his head and rolled his eyes up to meet Harvath’s. He was no longer moaning. His pupils were beginning to dilate.
“Whatever they told you, they lied,” Harvath said. “You were used. This has to end here, now. If you help me, no one else has to die.”
Moments passed. When the kid opened his mouth to speak, blood-soaked air rattled in and out of his lungs. The words that formed on his shredded lips were barely discernible, and Harvath had to lean down to make them out.
“Bremmer,” the young man rasped. “Chuck Bremmer.”
Harvath thought he recognized the name from when he was attached to the President’s Secret Service detail. There had been a special Defense Department liaison to the White House named Bremmer. “Are you talking about Colonel Chuck Bremmer?”
There was no response. The kid had gone into agonal respiration, or “guppy breathing,” and was gasping in very short, rapid breaths.
Harvath repeated his question, searching the young man’s face for any sign of acknowledgment. All he got back was a cold, glassy-eyed stare. Seconds later, the guppy breathing stopped.
Harvath checked his pulse. He was dead.
CHAPTER 43
Coordinating with Nicholas as he cleaned up, Harvath rattled off a list of instructions before driving away in the Denali. It was the early hours of Sunday morning and the majority of the staff was still hitting the bars in town. He had posted Maggie Rose up the road to make sure none of them came back onto the property into the middle of a potential gunfight. Now that that danger had passed, there was something else he needed her to do.
Her truck was parked along the shoulder of the road and he pulled into the oncoming lane so they could talk driver’s side to driver’s side.
Her words tumbled out in a rapid cascade. “Are you okay? Is everybody else okay?”
Harvath reached his hand through his open window so he could place it on her arm. “Everyone’s fine. Don’t worry.”
Maggie was expecting an explanation of what had happened, some sort of summary, but it didn’t come. It took a moment for that to sink in.
Harvath could tell she was confused. “Maggie, listen,” he said. “The less you know the better. Okay? The men who came onto the ranch aren’t a problem anymore. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled, trying to reassure her. “It means there’s nothing to worry about. Okay?”
Still confused, Maggie simply nodded.
“Good. Now, is there someone whose computer you could use right now? Someone not associated with the ranch?”
She looked at her watch before responding. “I think so.”
Harvath searched the truck for a piece of paper and something to write with. When he found them, he scribbled down a Web address and several strings of numbers. Handing it to her, he explained what he wanted her to do.
Maggie listened, studying what looked like a list of serial numbers, and repeated back his instructions. “That’s it?” she ended by saying.
“That’s it,” Harvath replied. “When you get the confirmation, write it down and then come back to the ranch.”
Maggie checked her watch again. “What are you ordering anyway, in the middle of the night? I don’t understand. How do you even know somebody will be there to get it?”
“They’ll be there. Don’t worry.”
She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head. “The bars will be closing soon. What do you want to do about the staff coming back?”
“As long as they steer clear of the guesthouse, we’ll be okay.”
“They will. They may continue drinking in one of their casitas, but you won’t see any of them on the main property until morning.”
“What about you? How long until you’re back?”
She thought about it for a moment. “I have some friends who live about halfway into town. Figure it’ll take me about twenty minutes to get there, twenty minutes back, plus however long it takes me to roust them out of bed and place your order. Are you sure I can’t call to give them a heads-up?”
Harvath shook his head. “No. Don’t use the phone. In fact, I want you to take the battery out of your cell phone right now.”
He watched as Maggie shook her head and did as he asked. “Thank you,” he said. “Don’t stop for anything. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
Without waiting for a response, he then put the truck in gear, pulled a U-turn, and headed back to the ranch.
When he got there, he parked in back of the vehicle storage building. He would have to work fast.
A set of tall double doors led into a wide concrete bay with stainless steel tables, overhead cable hoists, gambrel systems, and a narrow channel that fed into multiple floor drains. Off to the side of the game-processing area was the walk-in freezer.
He spotted a game cart and in a cabinet behind it, a stack of large game bags. After tracking down an apron and a pair of heavy rubber gloves, he exited the building, loaded everything into the Denali, and headed back toward the guesthouse.
His first stop was the stand of maples. The sniper was right where he had left him. Dead weight was always a pain in the ass to move, and he hadn’t been able to get the truck right up close. After slipping on the apron and the rubber gloves, he packed the corpse in a game bag and used the cart to wheel it over to the Denali.
Bending down, he slung the body over his right shoulder, stood up, and manhandled it in the cargo area. The two other corpses adjacent to the guesthouse were just as difficult. Pulling up next to each of the men, he mummy-wrapped them in game bags and hefted them into the SUV, then made sure he had gathered up all of their weapons. The last thing he had to take care of was the body inside the guesthouse.
Stepping inside, he found Nicholas and, surprisingly, Nina—who’d moved past her emetic horror—hard at work in the master bedroom.
The pair had already packed up Nicholas’s salvageable gear and stacked it along the east wall. Next to the nightstand were a mop, a bucket, and various cleaning products from the kitchen pantry.
Neither Nicholas nor Nina had done anything with the corpse of the last attacker, not that Harvath had expected them to. Nicholas was too small, and Nina wasn’t cut out for that kind of work. The man remained as he had died, propped up against the bed. One of them had draped a sheet over him. Where the blood had seeped through, it caused the sheet to cling and mold itself to those parts of the corpse.
“About that,” Nicholas said, seeing Harvath looking at the shrouded body.
Harvath held up his gloved hand. “I’ll take care of it. Just finish what you need to do.”
“What should we do about my damaged equipment?”
“Leave it. We’re only taking what we absolutely have to,” he replied. “I’ll ask Maggie to get rid of the rest. Is any of it traceable?”
“No,” said Nicholas. “It’s all clean and I’ve already pulled the drives.”
“What about Caroline’s flash drive?”
The little man tapped his right front pocket. “Good to go.”
