Page 108 of Edge of Honor

Grabbing his water bottle, McGee headed upstairs to put everything together.

When they were getting close in their Uber, Haney texted Harvath, who met them at Mount Vernon.

Doing a 360-degree inspection of his Bronco, Haney commented, “No bullet holes. Good job.”

After returning to the house, getting Ambassador Rogers set up in the den, and familiarizing Haney with all things Hale, Harvath and McGee got on the road for the fifteen-minute drive to Fort Belvoir.

After showing their IDs at the gate, they were issued a vehicle pass and told how to find the Army Intelligence and Security Command, also known as INSCOM, which was adjacent to U.S. Army Cyber Command.

Finding a spot in the lot, they entered the lobby and did another ID and security check. Once they had been issued badges, a soldier escorted them to INSCOM, where they were handed off to a different soldier, who walked them the rest of the way to Alan Gallo, who was waiting for them outside the secure area that contained the SCIF they would be using.

He was an extremely fit, middle-aged man, with a perfectly parted haircut and a dark blue suit. After he greeted the two visitors with a firm handshake, they all deposited their electronic devices in the nearby cubby and then Gallo waved them into the SCIF.

They chatted for a moment as Gallo caught up quickly with McGee, and informed Harvath that he was aware of how everything had unfolded Monday evening and that he was proud to be meeting him in person.

Then, sitting down at one of the chairs around the short conference table, he looked at McGee and said, “You called this meeting, Bob. I’ll let you helm it.”

After thanking him again for coming down to Fort Belvoir, the ex–CIA director launched into everything he and Harvath had agreed would be in his speech.

Gallo looked as if someone had not just walked across his grave but had driven over it with an F-150 too.

“Anything else?” asked the FBI agent.

McGee looked at Harvath and nodded, signaling that he was okay with dropping the other shoe as long as he was.

“Hale says there’s another attack coming,” Harvath replied. “It’s not his people, however. And he doesn’t know anything about the target. Apparently, whoever is behind all this, they’ve got another roster of hitters they’re drawing from.”

“I think we’re getting close to uncovering that other roster.”

Upon hearing that, both Harvath’s and McGee’s eyebrows went up. Though neither man said anything, it was obvious that they were waiting for Gallo to elaborate. When he did, it was substantial.

First, however, he reaffirmed the ground rules. “Both of you have maintained your top-secret clearances. I expect you to abide by all the rules and regulations therein. Nothing I am about to share with you gets repeated. Is that clear?”

Harvath and McGee both agreed.

“Seven months ago, the FBI apprehended a Russian intelligence officer. In debriefing him, we learned that about a year ago, Russia had stood up a new covert spy unit, the Department of Special Tasks, or SSD. Theirgoal is to destabilize the West and one of their first operations is calledChernaya Liniya, or Operation Black Line. The object is to tip America into chaos and collapse the country from within.”

“And you think that’s what we’re experiencing now?” Harvath asked.

Gallo nodded. “According to our Russian intelligence officer, everything we’re seeing is in keeping with that plan. You start with terrorism to make Americans feel unsafe, and then you apply downward pressure on our political and cultural fault lines, sow distrust not only in the government, but in each other as well.”

“What did I tell you?” McGee said, looking at Harvath.

“But how did the Russians get a bunch of Americans on board with their plan, much less current and former CIA people, as well as someone at Secret Service?” Harvath asked.

“My best guess would be that these people don’t know that they’re doing Russia’s bidding. I think there’s probably something else between them and the Russians. What that is, though, we haven’t figured out yet.”

“What about this other roster of hitters?” Harvath asked. “Who are they?”

“They’re a White nationalist group called Iron Tree. Real blood-and-soil, neo-Nazi types. The Russians have covertly been using combat sports as a recruiting ground. They teach these guys how to fight, in an expectation that eventually they’ll be called out onto American streets to commit violence against those they see as their political opponents. Based on intelligence we just received, we believe they’ve taken things to the next level with training in weapons and small unit tactics.”

“And you think that’s what my wife and I encountered outside the Vice President’s Residence?”

“There, as well as with the final shooter inside the Norwegian ambassador’s residence,” Gallop replied.

“So shooting at the D.C. cops and the protesters was handled by this Iron Tree group,” said McGee. “And the attack on the Secret Service motorcade was Hale’s ex–Ground Branch people. All of which causes chaos, a feeling that no one is safe, et cetera. But what’s the rationale for going after Brendan Rogers?”

“Did you ask Hale?”

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