Grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, he swallowed several Motrin, turned on his phone, and returned messages. Then after a quick shower, he swung by the kitchen for a mug of coffee. Everyone else was already up.
Barton and Morrison were in the gym working out, while Staelin was outside in a pair of cargo shorts, working on his tan and reading another paperback, this time by Erik Larson.
It was the same hot sun overhead and same ocean off in the distance, but they were worlds away from Libya. Harvath didn’t begrudge his team some leisure time. Especially not after everything they had been through. They had more than earned it.
Making his way to the stairwell, he waved his card in front of the reader, the door unlocked, and he headed down to the infirmary.
The overnight medical team had gone home and a new team had come on.
Harvath stopped briefly to speak with the doctor before walking back to check on Haney and Gage.
Part of the new medical team included an attractive nurse, named Olivia. When Harvath walked in, she was in the process of checking Gage’s blood pressure.
“Speak of the devil,” the Green Beret said as Harvath entered. “Harvath, tell this lovely woman how Haney and I threw ourselves in front of those bullets to save your life.”
Harvath caught a smile, accompanied by an eye roll, from the young woman. She obviously knew a couple of liars when she saw them.
“Whatever you’re giving them,” he said to her, “you may want to let the doc know that it’s affecting their memory—”
“One hundred men!” Gage continued. “When we ran out of ammo, we had to go after them with our bare hands.”
Harvath ignored him and walked over to Haney. “How’s the leg?”
“I think my modeling career is going to be okay,” he replied.
Harvath smiled. “I’m glad you have something to fall back on.”
“We still going to Sigonella today?”
Harvath nodded. It was one of the messages he had returned from his room. “They’re working on getting us a plane. The doc says you’re good to travel. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
Haney pointed to an empty tray off to the side. “Omelets and fresh squeezed OJ. It’s like being at the Ritz.”
“Your tax dollars at work.”
The nurse removed the blood pressure cuff from Gage’s arm and asked, “Is there anything else I can get for you gentlemen?”
“I’m good,” said Haney.
“If you see Cupid on the way,” Gage replied, “tell him I’m going to need my heart back.”
This time Harvath rolled his eyes. “Try ketamine,” he told her. “I guarantee he’ll stop bothering you.”
Olivia was a good sport. Smiling, she reminded her patients where their call buttons were and left to report back to the doctor up front.
Harvath looked at his watch. “As soon as I have an exact time on the plane, I’ll fill you in. And though I know I’m going to regret asking, is there anything you guys need?”
“There is,” said Gage. “According to Haney, you owe me two hundred bucks.”
Harvath shot Haney a look.
“A bet’s a bet,” Haney replied.
“You’re going to a Navy hospital,” said Harvath. “What are you going to spend two hundred bucks on?”
“What are you, my accountant?” Gage asked. “You’ve got a bag upstairs with one hundred grand in cash. Go peel off a couple c-notes for me.”
“That’s Uncle Sugar’s money. I’ll square up with you when we get home. In the meantime, leave the nurse alone. Copy?”
Gage winked at him in response and began bugging Haney, asking him how walking with a limp might affect his relationship with his wife.
“Tell the nurse to hurry up with that ketamine,” Haney yelled after Harvath as he exited the infirmary and headed back upstairs.
? ? ?
They stayed at the Solarium for lunch and drove out to the airport an hour later. There, a Citation XLS was on the tarmac fueled and waiting for them. The midsize jet was just big enough to accommodate their team.
Haney took two of the seats facing each other so he could prop his leg up. Harvath and Gage sat facing each other across the aisle. Barton and Morrison took the two seats in the back. Staelin boarded last.
As such, he was left with the side-facing seat up near the cockpit, normally reserved for a flight attendant. And the minute he sat down, that was exactly how the team treated him.
As the jet taxied out onto the runway, the Delta Force operator checked the galley to see if any catering had been done for the hop over to Sicily. In typical CIA fashion, it was bare bones—no liquor, not even soft drinks—only small bottles of water. He accepted drink orders anyway.
When the pilots took off the brakes and the Citation began to roar down the runway, Staelin tossed Harvath, Haney, and Gage their bottles of water. He placed the two for Barton and Morrison on the floor. As the plane took off, the bottles rolled to the back of the cabin, where Morrison reached down and picked his up.
Barton did the same, but thoroughly wiped it off with his shirt before opening it and taking a drink.
After a few more shots at Staelin for being a lousy “stewardess,” the team quieted down. Gage and Haney put their earbuds in, while Staelin opened his book.
As the Citation climbed into the sky and banked out over the Mediterranean Sea, Harvath closed his eyes. He had a lot to process. Not the least of which being what he was going to have to do once they landed in Italy.
CHAPTER 47
* * *
* * *
NORTHERN VIRGINIA Lydia Ryan looked at both men with disbelief. There was no way the CIA would ever allow what they were asking for. Absolutely not.
“You want what?” she repeated.
“Access to the Malice source code,” said Nicholas.
Malice was an ultra-top-secret program developed by the CIA’s Center for Cyber Intelligence that allowed the Agency to skirt both the NSA and the FISA court, in order to intercept and trace encrypted Internet communications.
The program was so highly effective that the CIA had gone to great lengths to mask its existence. Neither the President nor the intelligence committees had ever been briefed on it. Only in the most extreme circumstances was it ever used.
She knew better than to ask how Nicholas even knew about it. She didn’t want to know.
Instead, she directed her next remark to Carlton, “We’re talking about the most valuable weapon in the Agency’s hacking arsenal.”
“I understand that,” he replied.
“I don’t think you do. This goes beyond anything they’ve ever developed. Beyond putting smart TVs into fake off-mode in order to listen in on people’s conversations. Beyond hacking smartphones in order to capture audio and message traffic before it gets put through an encryption app.