Page 97 of Shadow of Doubt

Maggie winced as she struggled to get comfortable in the bed.

“Here,” Conroy said, handing her the remote.

After adjusting everything, Maggie relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So, I thought we’d discuss your medical leave.”

She looked at him. “I haven’t requested any yet.”

“Well, don’t bother. I’ve already denied it. Preemptively. That place ceases to function without you. We can’t afford your absence right now.”

Maggie smiled. “It’s nice to be needed. That said, those handlebars made some pretty aggressive contact with my abdomen. The surgeon said I’m going to need at least two weeks of bed rest. I don’t know how I’m going to get into the office.”

“If you’re willing, the president has offered you full use of his suite at Walter Reed Medical Center. We’ll assign an around-the-clock security detail. You can have any materials you want from the office and any staff as well. There’s a secure conference room with encrypted communications where your people can work. There are also the executive living spaces, which will be made available to Paul. As soon as the doctors say you’re ready to be moved, we’ll transfer you via Marine Corps helicopter. All you have to do is agree.”

“You make it rather hard to say no.”

“Listen, Maggie. I’m sure you’d rather be recuperating at home. In any other situation, I’d prefer that for you too. Unfortunately, this isn’t any other situation. You’ve got President Porter’s ear and you also have the respect of his national security advisor. We need all hands on deck to thread this needle with Russia and Belarus. Nobody has the experience and insights that you do. Without you in the picture, I worry that some of the louder, less-informed voices will start taking up all the air in the room.”

“Like I said,” Maggie repeated. “It’s nice to be needed.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Of course I’ll want to speak with Paul first, but yes. Please tell the president that I appreciate his generosity.”

“Terrific,” Conroy said. “I’ll get everything in motion. As soon as you know what people and materials you want, we can get those balls rolling too. In the meantime, I need to ask you about a particular Russian diplomat.”

“Which one?”

“Russia’s military attaché to France.”

Maggie inhaled a sharp breath. “Colonel Vladimir Elovik. He’s a very nasty piece of work. Why are you interested in him?”

“Scot Harvath is about to make contact. And it isn’t going to be a polite social call.”

“Well, Elovik’s file speaks for itself. Like I said, he’s a nasty piece of work. His colleagues call him the ‘Porcupine’ because he surrounds himself with pricks. Seems to have an affinity for bad actors and people of low character. Feels right at home around them. Whatever business Harvath has with Elovik, tell him to be very, very careful.”

CHAPTER 52

PARIS

Something was eating at Harvath, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something just felt off.

Perhaps it was having to rush another job. He knew all too well that just because the Tsybulsky op had been successful, it didn’t mean that this next one would.

Hits that were daisy-chained, where the intel gleaned from one operation led immediately to the next, required a tremendous amount of luck. There was a lot of room for error. No matter how much care you took, Murphy seemed to be waiting around not just one corner, butallof them.

Harvath was reminded of a friend who, years ago, had been killed right at the finish line. It was July Fourth weekend and they had been chasing a team of terrorists through New York City. At the very end, right when they had cornered the key figure they were after, Harvath’s buddy, Bob Horrigan, had been shot.

They had been running and gunning for hours. From one battle to the next, they kept pushing through their mental and physical exhaustion. Then, right when they could see light at the end of the tunnel, Bob had been hit by a figurative train.

It didn’t matter that Horrigan had been an elite Delta Force operator and that he had been on countless high-risk missions throughout his storied career. In the end, the world’s best training and hard-won experience hadn’t been enough to save him.

Harvath had always wondered if it was bad luck or simply the law ofdiminishing returns. Had Bob’s number just come up or had they pushed too hard for too long?

By the same token, night after night during the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, teams had daisy-chained from dusk to dawn. It wasn’t the preferred method of doing business, but it produced results, which was why it was done. Sometimes, people got hurt. But when the clock was ticking, often there was no other choice. Which was where Harvath was now.

He tried to let the feeling roll off him. If there was nothing he could do about it, it was pointless to dwell on it. He needed to focus forward.

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