Page 18 of Spymaster

“What is this place?” Jasinski asked as they approached.

“It’s a rental,” said Harvath. “Belongs to a Belgian businessman. He was transferred to Thailand with his family. We found it online.”

As their car neared the gates, two serious-looking men materialized on the other side. After confirming the driver was Harvath, they unfastened the lock and opened the gates so the vehicle could enter.

Though they were wearing jackets, Jasinski had no doubt they were armed. Both had earpieces.

“Pool boy and the gardener?” she asked.

Harvath smiled as he drove forward into the motor court and parked.

Getting out of the car, he introduced the two men. “Monika Jasinski, I’d like you to meet Jack Gage and Matt Morrison.”

Gage, who looked to be in his forties, was an enormous man. He stood six-foot-three with a thick, dark beard and had a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth.

Morrison was a few inches shorter and several years younger. He looked to be in his early thirties and stood about five-foot-eleven. He offered his hand first and Monika shook it, followed by Gage’s. When he extended his hand, she could see a paperback novel tucked inside his coat.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

“The Terminal List. It’s a thriller by a guy named Jack Carr,” Gage answered.

“Any good?”

“Considering the author is a former SEAL and can even string his sentences together, it’s amazing.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Monika saw Harvath raise his middle finger and use it to massage his left temple. There appeared to be a little interservice rivalry going on here.

“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re Army?”

Gage nodded. “Was. Fifth Special Forces Group.”

“Which makes the fact thathecan read even more amazing,” jibed Morrison.

That got a laugh out of Jasinski. “And you?” she asked.

“United States Marine Corps,” he replied with an Alabama drawl. “Recon.”

“Where the motto is,” said Gage, “when you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, just riddle them with bullets.”

Jasinski laughed again.

“You don’t have to laugh,” Harvath deadpanned, though it was pleasant to see her smile for the first time. “Their jokes aren’t that good.”

In unison, both Gage and Morrison raised a middle finger and began massaging their temples.

Harvath shook his head. “Are you two joining us for lunch?”

“We couldn’t get a reservation,” replied Morrison.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” offered Gage. “Your chef’s a little too temperamental for my taste.”

Harvath shook his head once more as he led Jasinski away from the car.

In addition to the main structure, there was a garage and a small stone guesthouse. She was studying its tiny windows when the door opened and an equally tiny man, accompanied by two enormous white dogs, stepped out.

“Who’s that?”

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