Page 51 of Spymaster

The young operative glanced in his bags. “Let me see. Vegan beef jerky, frozen Greek yogurt, wheat-grass-flavored mineral water—with extra pulp, and the pièce de résistance—probiotic Oreos.”

Harvath shook his head. “Sounds delicious. Let’s get going. I want eyes on Sparrman’s farm before sunrise.”

CHAPTER 31

The Gotland operation had always been envisioned as a snatch-and-grab of Sparrman. That meant concealable weapons, not long guns. But Harvath being Harvath, he had insisted that they bring one along—just in case. The weapon in question was a LaRue Tactical 6.5 Grendel FDE rifle with a Schmidt & Bender 5-25x56 scope with an illuminated reticle. In the case, Harvath had included a Summit thermal weapon sight for nighttime operations. They were glad to have all of it.

Across the road and slightly uphill from the Sparrman farm was a forest. It was the perfect spot for a hide site, a place to dig in and have an overwatch position of the key buildings on the property. Staelin and Chase had offered to take the first shift.

After pulling the car well off the road, the two former Delta Force operatives powered up their night-vision goggles and doubled back on foot as Haney unpacked the team’s drone.

It was pitch-dark, but the device was outfitted with an infrared camera. Harvath wanted to do a quick reconnaissance of the area to see if there was anything in particular they needed to be aware of.

Haney worked quickly. Within five minutes of removing the Storm Case from the car, he had the drone airborne.

The live stream could be fed to multiple devices. Harvath watched on a small tablet.

The technology was advancing so quickly, it seemed as if they were upgrading their equipment on a monthly basis. Not only was the resolution incredible, but the sound had also been attenuated to such a degree that certain drones were scary quiet. One could be hovering several feet above your head and you wouldn’t even know it unless you looked up and saw it directly. While good for his line of work, the rapid advancement in this and several other technologies gave him pause. He could envision a not-too-distant future where humans stayed behind in a tactical operations center while machines did all the work in the field—including, maybe someday, snatching human targets.

Shaking the thought off, he focused on the footage that Haney’s drone was sending back. It started far outside and worked its way in.

The Sparrman farm had multiple kinds of livestock, predominantly cattle, sheep, and pigs. There was a large poultry barn, and from what the drone could see, it appeared they had a healthy number of chickens as well.

In addition to the poultry barn, there were a multitude of outbuildings, including what appeared to be a dairy barn.

The large property was cross-fenced, with water stations in several places for the animals, along with plenty of run-in sheds and strategically placed grain dispensers.

Just off the road they had driven in on was the main house. It was two stories tall and a stone’s throw from an old wooden structure, which was probably the farm’s original barn. Behind it was what looked like a small administrative building. Across from that was what had to be a bunkhouse.

Harvath was particularly interested in the vehicles parked outside, and he had Haney zoom in for inspections. Even using the drone’s IR illuminator, there was only so much information he could gather.

Once the preliminary reconnaissance was complete, he had Haney recall the drone, pack it back up, and return everything to the van.

They checked in with Staelin and Palmer one last time to make sure they had everything they needed and then returned to the rental house.

When they entered, they expected everyone to be sleeping, but they weren’t. They were all in front of the flat-screen TV in the living room.

On it were images of incredible devastation. First responders worked feverishly to put out a roaring blaze.

The on-screen graphics, as well as the commentary, were all in Swedish. “What’s going on?” asked Harvath.

“There was a bombing in Rome,” said Jasinski, having pulled up the information on her phone. “At least that’s what some outlets are saying. It hasn’t been confirmed yet.”

“Where did it take place?”

“Some restaurant on the Piazza Navona.”

Harvath had just been in Rome, where he had helped disrupt a horrific attack. It seemed that no matter how hard they worked, it wasn’t enough.

This was why Sloane and Chase would have permanent job security and why he needed to develop Jasinski and a thousand more like her.

“Has anyone claimed responsibility yet?” he asked. He wanted to know if it was an organization like ISIS, which had specifically listed Rome as a prime target. Something told him, though, that ISIS hadn’t done this.

Jasinski kept scrolling.

Sloane was on her phone, too, and said, “An Italian communist newspaper in Rome calledIl Manifestosays it received a statement from the PRF within the last hour taking credit. They say the target of the bombing was a former Italian diplomat known to frequent the restaurant, named Giovanni Lorenzo.”

Jasinski knew the name right away. “Lorenzo used to be Deputy Secretary for NATO.”

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