Lovett was not only fluent in Italian, but she was well connected and had been working the Mustapha Marzouk/Umar Ali Halim investigation from the Italian side.
She knew the files backward and forward. Once the Reaper had located Halim’s compound, Harvath had begun asking Fayez about its specifics. He had visited only a handful of times, dropping off phones or coming to deal with technical issues. He didn’t know about secret ways in or out. So, Harvath had reached out to Lovett via text.
When her number came up on his satellite phone a short time later, he hoped she was calling with good news.
“What have you got?”
“I went back through all of the refugee interviews like you asked,” she said. “The beatings usually happened inside the warehouse. They were a form of punishment, as well as a warning to the others. The rapes, on the other hand, happened outside. Apparently, Halim’s men prefer privacy for those.”
“What about the torture?”
Lovett could be heard flipping through her notes. “Victims were hooded or blindfolded and then taken someplace else on the property. It was described as dark, with a low ceiling and no windows. Sounds like an interior room or maybe something underground.”
Harvath doubted it was something underground. In fact, it sounded as if it could have been the windowless structure he had seen in the drone footage.
Shifting gears, he got to the heart of why he had contacted her. “What about any passageways or tunnels? Anything about alternative means in or out of the compound?”
“No. Not, specifically. But I may have found something interesting.”
“What is it?”
“About a year ago, Halim had raped a Sudanese woman at his compound. Unlike his men, who rape the refugees and then throw them back inside the warehouse, he brings the women to his bedroom.
“He has a big four-poster bed that was allegedly stolen from one of Gadaffi’s palaces. He likes to tie women to it as he has his way with them.
“Apparently, the Sudanese woman fought back and he beat her, severely. She lost consciousness. He waited for her to come back around and then he raped and beat her again. She didn’t remember much after that. Except for one thing—being dragged down a long hallway.”
“Any idea how long?” Harvath asked.
“No.”
“That doesn’t help us much.”
“Maybe this will,” Lovett offered. “Another Sudanese refugee remembered the night the woman was taken and raped. There was a terrible storm. When she was brought back to the warehouse, her clothes were damp, but not soaked.”
“Which means they probably dragged her outside in the rain, put her inside a vehicle, and drove her back to the warehouse.”
“There’s just one problem,” Lovett replied. “It was Halim, not his men, who brought her back. And the pair didn’t enter the warehouse through one of the exterior doors. According to the report, there’s a small office at the back of the warehouse that’s always kept locked. Halim stepped out of the office, dumped the Sudanese woman on the floor, and then disappeared back inside.
“None of them saw him again after that. A truck picked the refugees up the next morning, took them to the coast, and they boarded a boat that actually made it far enough to be rescued by the Italians.”
It certainly sounded to Harvath like there might be a tunnel, just not connected to the main house. He thought about what Lovett had told him.
If it was raining, if the Sudanese woman was unconscious and couldn’t reveal its existence, if the front gate was all locked up for the night, and if Halim didn’t want to wake his men to take her back to the warehouse, he might have used the tunnel.
Those were a lot of ifs. Ifs got people killed. But ifs were a part of what he did for a living—a big part.
And, as he didn’t want to go over the compound’s wall, there was no other choice but to see if a tunnel existed.
CHAPTER 23
* * *
* * *
They waited until well after midnight to launch their operation. Harvath tried not to think of everything he was doing wrong.
One of the things they absolutely should have had before going in was a study of the people in and around the target called a pattern-of-life analysis. By observing a target over time, you could gain a lot of additional intelligence helpful in planning and executing a raid. Harvath, though, had decided to do without it.
The flat, barren terrain around the smuggler’s compound offered no way to approach it without being seen. There was only one exception, and tonight was it. There was no moon. It was the only advantage they were going to get.
Harvath tried to reassure himself with the fact that while still a dangerous assignment, they weren’t going up against a professional military or hard-core terrorist organization. Halim’s men were likely to have very little training, and even less discipline.
What concerned him, though, was the Libya Liberation Front. They were trained, they were disciplined, and they were paid to “protect” Halim.
Based on the drone footage, there was no sign of them anywhere near the warehouse or the compound.
More likely than not, they were protecting Halim from rival smugglers trying to cut in on his business, as well as other militias that might want to shake him down for money and refugee women they could sell or use as sex slaves.
The big question was: Were they being paid enough to come running if Umar Ali Halim was under attack? Harvath already knew the answer.
Based on the contacts in the dead militia members’ phones, the NSA had already intercepted a significant number of Libya Liberation Front phone calls.
The men’s bodies had been pulled from the charred remains of the electronics shop. And even though they were burned beyond recognition, the bullet holes in their skulls made it clear that the fire wasn’t the cause of death.
The militia was out for blood. That meant, whatever happened, Harvath’s team couldn’t let Halim or any of his men raise the alarm.
It would all come down to three key elements, perfectly summed up in the Delta Force maxim: surprise, speed, and violence of action.
All of Harvath’s guys knew their jobs. The rules of engagement were simple. Anyone with a weapon was fair game. And that went double for anyone who tried to call for backup.
The one person the team was not allowed to kill was Halim. Harvath had been adamant about that. Only if there was no other choice was anyone allowed to put a bullet in him.
Though the moonless night gave them the advantage on their approach, two homes north of Halim’s compound caused Harvath to conclude that they should come in from the southwest. There was no telling if the neighbors were on Halim’s payroll. They couldn’t take a gamble on whether they might tip him off to unfamiliar vehicles in the area.