Page 82 of Shadow of Doubt

Because of the contours of the coast, the most direct route back to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat was a straight line that resembled traveling from two o’clock to seven o’clock across a watch face.

Charting this course, Tsybulsky would exit the harbor, point his yacht southwest, and move parallel to Monaco’s shoreline before being taken out into deeper water as he crossed the Golfe de Saint-Hospice. It was Harvath’s job to make sure he didn’t get that far.

Out of the wet suit and back in dry clothes, he joined Barton at the helm where he focused on the touchscreens—particularly the digital navigation features. He wanted a precise picture of the boat’s exact location at all times.

Activating the BRABUS’s electronic chart plotter, he pulled up the port at Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and activated it as their destination. Tsybulsky’s captain had likely done the same and it would allow them to better anticipate his movements.

Harvath watched as Max and Petro assembled their equipment. Herecognized the Accuracy International AX50 ELR from having seen it at the caretaker’s cottage. It was a .50 BMG (Browning Machine Gun), extremely long-range antimatériel rifle. Weighing in at almost twenty-eight pounds, the weapon boasted impressively low recoil and incredible accuracy. It was capable of taking out targets at an effective range of 2,500 meters, or more than twenty-seven football fields away.

The fact that it fired the high-explosive incendiary/armor-piercing projectile known as the Raufoss Mk 211 only further endeared the weapon to his heart. The round was manufactured by a Finnish-Norwegian company called Nammo, and the wordraufosswas Norwegian for “red waterfall.” A pretty good omen in his book.

Topping it all off, the rifle had been outfitted with an AWC Thor Turbodyne titanium suppressor, a Schmidt & Bender scope, and a HISS-XLR ThermoSight. The entire package probably cost more than most people’s cars.

As the commandos continued to ready their gear, Harvath scrolled through the digital navigation system.

Pointing to a spot up ahead, he drew Barton’s attention to the map and said, “X marks the spot. This is where we’re going to do it.”

CHAPTER 41

Lined with plush cushions, the bow of the BRABUS was designed as a luxurious, oversized sun pad. It was a far cry from the cold, unforgiving landscapes Max and Petro usually found themselves in—more like the Ritz than a sniper’s perch. Despite the incongruity, they hauled their equipment forward and began setting up their new “office.”

After Max’s rifle, the only thing nearly as expensive on board were two pairs of thermal binoculars from Newcon Optik. They were like pieces of alien technology. The devices could see through smoke, fog, and countless forms of camouflage. They also had built-in laser rangefinders that could measure distance, azimuth, and inclination for far-off targets—all necessary features for Petro, who was the team’s spotter and would be helping Max zero in on Tsybulsky.

For Harvath, however, there was one additional feature that was critical to the mission’s success. Everything seen by the binoculars could be recorded and then exported to a peripheral device, such as an iPhone, and subsequently uploaded anywhere—including to social media.

Standing at the darkened stern of the BRABUS, he peered through his binoculars. Scanning the yachts leaving Port Hercule, he searched for the telltale pulses of infrared light from the HEL-STARs he had attached to Tsybulsky’s vessel.

There was an intermittent breeze, and Harvath could feel the boat begin to roll beneath his feet. A light swell had formed. Max and Petro already had a highly complex and difficult ask. Any change in the environment, no matter how small, was only going to make their job harder.

The team was wearing noise-reduction headsets with boommicrophones connected to their individual radios. When Harvath identified Tsybulsky’s Lamborghini 63,Hermes,exiting the harbor, he gave the team the heads-up.

While examining the yacht earlier in the day, he hadn’t noticed a FLIR camera that would allow its crew night-vision capability. That didn’t mean that there wasn’t one, perhaps cleverly incorporated somewhere into the vessel’s design. There was also the possibility that they had a handheld unit of some sort like what Harvath was using. But even if they did, there was no reason to have it out unless there was an emergency. Just to be safe, Max and Petro had covered themselves with a Predator brand, spectralflage ghillie blanket, which helped reduce both their IR and thermal signatures.

Harvath’s hope had been to point the BRABUS perpendicular to the shore, and to engage theHermesas she passed in front of their bow. Not only would it give Max a good, clean profile shot with the .50-cal, but if he missed, the coastline in this area was nothing but concrete seawall and rocky cliff face. There was no worry that any errant rounds would strike and kill innocent bystanders.

All of that was for naught, however, when he saw what Tsybulsky’s boat did next, forcing him to recalibrate.

Instead of a nice, leisurely cruise back to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, someone had decided to drop the hammer.

There was a roar as the throttles were pushed forward and the enormous V-12 engines leapt to life, like a pair of lions being released from a cage.

“We’re going to have to chase him,” Harvath stated over the radio.

“Roger that,” Barton replied. “Everybody hang on.”

That Tsybulsky might come out of Port Hercule and decide to put the pedal to the metal had been on Harvath’s list of possibilities. TheHermeswas a Lamborghini, after all. You didn’t spend millions of dollars on a yacht like that if you didn’t enjoy speed.

Harvath had no idea why the Russian hadn’t stayed longer at the casino, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that they needed to keep the man in their sights.Literally.Leaving the BRABUS’s running lights extinguished, Barton gave chase.

Lying on a floating platform, correcting for wind, while trying to time the up and down of swells, all in order to shoot at a boat as it passed by, was already a monumental undertaking.

Now, however, Max and Petro were going to have to pull it off while speeding after said boat. What’s more, their shots would no longer be focused on the side of the yacht, but rather its tail.

Harvath had been concerned that it could come down to this, which was another reason why he had attached the infrared marker lights. Not only would they help positively identify Tsybulsky’s boat, but they could also help dictate the area within which Max would have to deliver his rounds. Petro knew how far above the waterline to instruct Max to be aiming to effectively hit their target. The HEL-STARs allowed him to establish dead center.

The pain-in-the-ass factor in all of this, though, was how fast they were moving. To be fair, once the BRABUS had popped out of the “hole” and was up on plane, the craft was a lot more stable. But it was far from perfect. Speed could be a real hindrance to accuracy.

The other issue, which the commandos couldn’t be bothered with, was that they were now running parallel to the coastline. If one of their shots went wide, someone on the water ahead of Tsybulsky could be killed.

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