assembled. The aforementioned directors of the various agencies were present, accompanied by their aides. JSOC brass who hadn’t shuttled to the Mediterranean to be on-site were in attendance. Harvath was well acquainted with several of those present, and he nodded in their direction as he caught their eyes. There were also other military and governmental personnel present whom no one bothered to introduce.
Scanning the long cherry-wood table, Harvath saw Gary Lawlor and at first thought the comment that rang out from that end of the room had come from him.
“What the hell is he doing here?” asked the voice.
As Scot focused upon a group of people who were not seated, General Venrick said, “I believe Agent Harvath can be of service to us in this operation, and I have asked him to join us.”
“From what I hear, the only person Agent Harvath seems to be of service to is himself, that is, when he is not being of service to CNN. And he was considered such an impediment that our own deputy director of the FBI had to have him removed from the case.” The man stepped away from the group and leaned on the far end of the table. Scot could see him clearly now, Edward DaFina.
Director Jameson piped up before anyone had a chance to respond. It was obvious that there was no love lost between the two. “That is all still under investigation, DaFina, and you know it.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Secret Service did succeed in losing the president, didn’t it? I mean, that’s why we’re all here, right?”
Scot had never been one to let others fight his own battles. “Chief of Staff DaFina, I personally knew every single one of the Secret Service agents who died trying to protect the president and his daughter. As a matter of fact, from what I saw in Park City, had I not been retasked to Goldilocks’s detail, there’s probably no doubt she and I would be among the dead as well. So considering that you have absolutely zero idea of what the Secret Service has been through and what we go through on a daily basis, I suggest you get to the point. If you have one.”
Gary Lawlor shook his head and began to massage his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He hadn’t been able to believe it when Harvath arrived with General Venrick and the Secret Service director. The kid had as many lives as a cat. Somehow, somewhere, someone had decided to cut him some more slack, but once again he was quickly hanging himself with it. Lawlor was still upset about what had transpired in Park City and was not going to stick his neck out to help defend the headstrong Secret Service agent anymore. Harvath was completely on his own as far as Lawlor was concerned.
“My point, Agent Harvath,” said DaFina, warming to the challenge, “is that you and your agency were charged with a task and you failed. Failed miserably, I might add. To compound the damage, you tampered with no less than three related crime scenes and, until I am convinced otherwise, leaked sensitive information to the press. That is my point.”
“This is a bunch of bullshit,” said the general. Anyone who had sheepishly been listening to the exchange, pretending not to hear it, now turned his or her eyes toward the man who had drawn himself to his full height. “None of this has any bearing on why we’re all here. We have asked Agent Harvath to come along because of his vast antiterrorist experience and in the hopes that as one of the sole survivors of the kidnapping, he might be able to help us shed more light on what we are facing and what we will do going forward.”
“‘Going forward’?” asked DaFina. “General, you don’t sound as if you believe this operation tonight will be successful. Why is that?”
“Why is that? It’s because we haven’t had sufficient time to gather the appropriate intelligence to mount an effective recovery.”
“General, when this whole thing blew, were you or were you not involved in our strategic assessment meeting?”
“I was, but-”
“General, you were the one person who advocated moving as fast as we could as soon as we had reliable information to act upon-”
“Mr. DaFina, that’s the last time you are going to interrupt me. As far as what I said, you seem to have ignored the fact that the word I used was reliable.”
Unfazed, DaFina continued, “General Venrick, I don’t know how much more specific you need your information to be. One of the kidnappers, a freelance Middle Eastern sniper who often worked for pro-Palestinian liberation groups, was found dead at the scene. We received proof that some organization does indeed have the president, and then they asked for the release of two Islamic terrorists with suspected FRC connections who are being held in this country. When their ransom demand was phoned into the FBI, we were able to pinpoint where it came from. What more do you need?”
“What more does he need?” interjected Harvath. “For starters, how about intelligence that the phone that was used is actually in the same location the president is being held?”
“Agent Harvath,” said DaFina, “I don’t really care for your opinion, but I’ll answer you anyway. The Israeli Mossad has assets throughout Lebanon and in particular the area we’re concentrating on. The Syrian government also has its sources-”
“The Syrians?” It was now the CIA director’s chance to interject. “You contacted the Syrians without consulting with my office first?”
“First of all, Director Vaile, it was Vice President Marshfield who contacted the Syrian president, and secondly, I hardly think-”
“No kidding,” said Harvath.
DaFina glared at Harvath, and the CIA director took the opportunity to continue his attack. “You have absolutely no idea what you are doing. This whole operation may have been compromised.”
“Director Vaile, the vice president and I are confident that the participation of the Syrians and the Israelis can only help this endeavor.”
“Jesus,” said Harvath. “That’s it, isn’t it? Not only will the vice president look good if he can get the president back, but a U.S.-Israeli operation that involves the Syrians could go a long way on the world stage in helping to begin mending their fences. You and Marshfield are going to squeeze as much political juice out of this thing as you can.”
“Agent Harvath, you are way out of line,” barked DaFina.
“Am I? I don’t think there’s a person in this room who isn’t well aware that the president seriously doubts whether he will run for a second term. This whole thing stinks. This is a half-assed game to you, and you’re asking good men to put their lives on the line for it.”
“Agent Harvath, you sound as if you don’t want the president to be recovered,” continued DaFina.
“What I want is for the president to be recovered, but with no further American lives lost in the process.”
“A commendable goal that I think we can all agree with. Good evening all,” said Vice President Marshfield as he strutted in.
A chorus of “Good evening, Mr. Vice President” rang throughout the sit room. The assembled men and women took their places around the table, and as expected, the vice president sat at the head in the chair that had always been reserved for the president himself.
“Gentlemen,” the vice president began, “I know we are on a tight schedule, so I think it’s best if we turn this over right away to General Venrick, commander of the Joint Special Operations Command. General?”
The general stood. “Thank you, Mr. Vice President. As you all know, the intelligence we have been able to gather thus far indicates that the president was taken hostage by the Abu Nidal organization, the Fatah RC, to be ransomed in exchange for Egypt’s unfreezing certain assets and the return of the Disneyland bombers. Our attempts at gaining further intel as to the health and well-being of Abu Nidal, the group’s supposed leader, have been unsuccessful. What we do know is that the call the FBI received from the kidnappers was traced to a building south of Beirut outside the town of Saida, or Sidon, as it is better known, on the Lebanese coast of the Mediterranean Sea.
“According to intelligence provided by the Israelis, this building is believed to be tied to the FRC organization, though further information than that is not available, which is troubling.”
“Troubling?” said the vice president, raising his eyebrows, his hands crossed in front of him.
“Yes, sir,” continued General Venrick. “The only surveillance of the building we have been able to run is via satellite, which took us longer than we would have liked due to retasking and getting it into an alternate orbit. While the Mossad does have assets in and around Sidon, there has not been proper time to conduct full-fledged surveillance.”
