Page 80 of Shadow of Doubt

Nicholas didn’t agree, but it wasn’t his decision to make. Shaking his head, he replied, “You’re the team leader.”

He knew his friend didn’t approve, but he had made up his mind. Changing the subject, he asked, “Can you show me where Barton and the commandos will be waiting?”

The little man pulled up a map of the Port Hercule harbor and highlighted where the boat was moored. He then indicated where Haney and Staelin would be dropping him before proceeding to their rendezvous point with Preisler, near the casino.

After going through everything else on his list, Harvath had Nicholas walk through it with him one more time. He wanted to make sure that they hadn’t overlooked anything.

When he was confident that they had it all covered, he said, “It looks like we’re good to go.”

Nicholas nodded. “If there’s anything else you need, I’ll be right in your ear.”

It brought Harvath back to their earlier discussion when they were returning from the caretaker’s cottage. There was definitely something else he was going to need, but not just yet. That particular item could wait.

Saying goodbye to his friend, he retreated to his room to grab a couple of items before walking back outside to where Haney and Staelin were already waiting for him.

Staelin unzipped the oblong backpack they had prepared for him and Haney walked him through all of its contents. In addition to the wet suit and snorkeling gear that had been purchased in nearby Beaulieu-sur-Mer, there were gloves, a robust multi-tool, a diver’s headlamp with multicolored lenses, a fistful of plastic zip ties, and, most important of all, a handful of the HEL-STAR marker lights the team used on their helmets to recognize each other in the dark.

Completely waterproof, the lights had built in tie-down points and could be run for hours in infrared mode. They were exactly what he needed and would be absolutely critical.

Placing the rest of his gear into the pack, he zipped it up, and nodded at his teammates.

This was it. It was now time to head up the coast for Phase Two.

CHAPTER 39

MONACO

They dropped Harvath along the appropriately named Quai des Etats-Unis and let him walk the rest of the way.

Slinging his pack, he skirted the edge of the glittering, horseshoe-shaped harbor and took in the evening air, which had grown considerably cooler.

He saw everything from small sailboats, no bigger than twenty-five feet long, to massive megayachts, which were over three hundred feet.

It was good to see that in the billionaire’s playground of Monaco, Port Hercule still had room for the little guy.

The boat the CIA had helped arrange was right where Nicholas had said it would be. Painted graphite black, the thirty-eight-foot BRABUS Shadow 900 looked like a long, sharp knife bobbing gently on the surface of the water.

Its twin Mercury Marine V-8 four-stroke engines were capable of speeds over 60 knots. Its supercar-style helm included a sophisticated touchscreen information display, which provided the boat’s main navigation, G-shock monitoring, engine management, multiple driving-assist features, and, similar to inflight systems, supported passenger screens with current speed, air temperature, and water depth.

From the hand-stitched leather seating to its blacked-out chrome, the craft was both sleek and luxurious. It was immediately obvious to Harvath why this was the same company famous for taking already high-end Mercedes-Benz vehicles to the next level.

Hopping on board, he shook hands with Barton and the two Ukrainian commandos, Max and Petro, before getting a quick update.

To help them track and target Tsybulsky’s vessel, Harvath had volunteered to slip into the water and attach the HEL-STAR marker lights with zip ties. Barton, however, was worried about the distance Harvath would have to swim.

“I’m not saying you can’t do it,” he stated. “I’m just asking why you would want to. Even with a wet suit.”

Part of his development as a team leader had been learning when to listen and when to speak. He had a lot of experience, but it didn’t mean he had cornered the market on good ideas. That had already been proven in the short amount of time they’d been in France.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Opening his tablet, Barton pulled up satellite imagery of the harbor and walked Harvath through his idea. “If you can make it to this point, we can trail a rope as we head out of the port. You grab on to it and we’ll tow you until we get just beyond the last pier. Then we’ll bring you aboard and nobody will be any the wiser.”

Barton was using his head. There were more than a few cameras around Port Hercule. Like Ring doorbell cams, they had become ubiquitous on even the smallest of vessels. If Harvath got into or out of the water anyplace other than their boat, there was a good chance it was going to be captured on video.

Even though he could keep his mask on, he knew that it was best to avoid being recorded whenever possible. If that meant swimming farther than he preferred or treading in cold water waiting to be picked up, that would always be the best way to go. Now all he had to decide was which option he wanted to take.

Examining the image and calculating the distances and time in the water, Harvath weighed his options. Then his phone, along with Barton’s, chimed. Someone had added a message to the team’s encrypted group text. It was from Preisler. Tsybulsky had cashed in his chips early and was on the move.

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