Page 73 of Edge of Honor

One of the agents monitoring the encrypted radio traffic from the site of the attack piped up and said, “Agent down. Repeat, agent down. Active sniper on scene.”

“Where, precisely?” Gaines demanded. “Do we have a fix on the shooter’s location?”

“Somewhere in the trees on the south side of the Dulles Access Road.”

A secondary attack. Harvath’s heart all but stopped in his chest.

It was chilling to stand there, less than twenty miles away, not knowing if Sølvi was alive or dead and not being able to impact the outcome either way. He felt helpless, andhelplessnesswas not a word in his personal vocabulary.

Making it even more difficult, there were no air assets yet on scene. The only eyes they had were the traffic cams along the access road and the live feeds streaming from the Secret Service dashcams. It was impossible to have a full, 360-degree view of the battlespace as it were. He would have given anything just to have Nicholas’s two Dragonflies overhead.

As reports of sniper fire continued to be radioed in, Harvath began to formulate a plan. He couldn’t sit here in the TOC, not while Sølvi was somewhere in the middle of that fight and might need him. It would take forever to get there via car, but he had to try.

He was about to tell Gaines he was leaving when Marshall entered the TOC, got his boss’s attention, and said, “HMX-1. Ten minutes out. South Lawn.”

Flashing his assistant the thumbs-up, Gaines looked at Harvath, who understood what had just been said. “HMX-1” was Marine Helicopter Squadron One, the Marine Corps unit responsible for transporting the President and other dignitaries by helicopter.

With assets five miles away at Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling, all it would have taken was one call to the White House’s Military Office to arrange for a speedy pickup on the South Lawn. The fact that the Secret Service didn’t have its own helicopters was yet another failing by Congress, yet also a fight for another day.

Nodding toward the door, Gaines said, “We’ve got an extra seat. Want it?”

Harvath didn’t need to be asked twice.

He followed Gaines out of the TOC, to the elevators, and down to the lobby, where a fully geared-up, six-man Quick Reaction Force was waiting. They handed both Gaines and Harvath chest rigs with hard plates and large patches front and back, which readPOLICE–SECRET SERVICE.

Outside at the curb, two black Secret Service SUVs, their lightbars flashing, were ready to go. After loading up, they took off.

By the time the VH-60N White Hawk helicopter flared and touched down on the South Lawn, Harvath, Gaines, and the QRF team were in position.

Though it hardly could have been part of the fast-moving calculus, having a presidential helicopter—with its distinct green paint job and white top—rush to the location of where Americans and European allies had come under attack was a smart move. It showed a White House managing the situation, committing any and all resources necessary, as rapidly as possible.

Everyone climbed aboard and strapped in. As the heavy door slid closed, the pilots powered up the twin turboshaft engines and the long black rotors chopped at the hot, humid air, lifting the helo quickly off the ground.

Banking hard to the west, Harvath watched the White House disappear beneath them.

And as it did, he prayed to God, asking for just one thing—that when they arrived, he would find Sølvi alive.

CHAPTER 37

The HMX-1 pilots got them out to the attack site in minutes, landing the helicopter on the Dulles Access Road, which had been closed to traffic.

By the time they arrived, word was already spreading that the sniper, along with two additional attackers, had been neutralized. Whether or not there were any more attackers, no one knew.

Along with Gaines and the QRF team, Harvath located the armored Tahoe containing Ambassador Hansen, Prime Minister Stang, and her chief of staff. The lead Norwegian PST agent, a man named Haugen, filled him in on what Sølvi had done.

Harvath felt relieved at hearing she was alive and unharmed. Looking around him at the death and destruction, it was an absolute miracle.

Haugen raised her on the radio and let her know that her husband was on scene. She asked that he bring her a med kit.

Gaines had one of the QRF guys grab the kit out of the Tahoe for him. He then pulled out his backup gun, a Glock 43X, and handed it to Harvath.

“Just in case,” he said.

“Thank you,” Harvath replied, setting his suit jacket aside.

He conducted a press check to make sure a round was chambered and tucked the weapon in the center pocket of his plate carrier. Shouldering the med kit, he then headed for the woods.

It took him a moment to find the path Sølvi had described, but once he was on it, he found her in no time.

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