Page 99 of Edge of Honor

Scot barely had time to unpack his weapons and peel off his wetsuit,before a drone dropped out of the night sky and hovered, several yards away, above the beach.

Suspended underneath it was a small case. Harvath detached it, stood back, and flashed the drone’s camera the thumbs-up.

He watched as it rose back into the air and disappeared, at which point he returned to the trees, and opened it up.

Among the items inside was a radio, complete with a bone microphone. Powering it up, he inserted the earpiece and conducted a comms check with McGee.

“Reading you five by five,” the man replied.

“Any sign of Hale?” Harvath asked as he continued to get dressed.

“Negative. Probably already turned in.”

“Roger that. Stand by. Almost ready to move.”

Harvath finished tying his boots, gave all of his equipment a final check, and, once he’d attached the monocular to his head mount assembly, let the team know he was good to go.

With Nicholas manipulating the security system, McGee guided Harvath through each step, letting him know where and when it was safe to move.

The trek from the beach up to the main compound was tedious and slow going, but it was working. And as hot, humid, and buggy as it was, Harvath reminded himself that it could have been much worse. The security team could have had dogs.

Picking his way through the trees at the edge of the property, he chose his steps with great care, making sure not to snap any twigs or branches underfoot, as if he were traversing hostile enemy territory. Though he, as the intruder, wouldn’t have been justified in shooting any of Hale’s people, this was Virginia and they would absolutely be justified in shooting him. He had no intention of letting that happen.

Up ahead, he could start to pick out the landscape lighting leading to the main house. Beyond that would be the garage and the apartment used by Hale. Even though he knew he had to be wary, he found himself eager to increase his pace. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to relax. Nothing good ever came from being in a hurry.

As he drew closer to the house, he could see that most of its lightswere out. What illumination was visible was simply interior accent lighting in case anyone had to move around in the middle of the night. By all appearances, the Willis family was asleep.

That was good. The fewer people up, around, and able to raise the alarm if they heard or saw something, the better. Harvath had no idea what was going to happen once he finally reached Hale; he just knew he didn’t want an audience for it.

Arriving at the motor court, he scanned the area. The apartment above the garage was dark.

“You’re all clear,” McGee said over the radio. “Keep it tight and stay sharp. Remember what I told you.”

“Good copy,” Harvath replied. He hadn’t forgotten the man’s ominous warning and wasn’t planning on letting his guard down.

The carriage house had five bays—four were for vehicles and the fifth had a regular pedestrian door cut into it. He didn’t linger. Cutting across the motor court, he made a beeline straight for it.

Silently wrapping his hand around the brass handle, he pressed down. The door gave with a soft click and he slipped inside.

The interior was dark, but his night-vision device gave him a clear view. A narrow hallway led straight to the stairs. Up to Hale’s apartment. There was no one in sight.

Drawing his Taser, he moved through the quiet darkness and opened the door leading into the garage. Inside was a Range Rover, a Land Rover, a Porsche 911, and a Mercedes AMG sedan. All of their fobs hung on a rack.

There was no sign of Hale.

Returning to the hall, he crept up the stairs, slowly applying pressure to each step. The last thing he wanted to do was to announce his presence through a creaky board.

At the top of the landing was the door to the man’s apartment. Harvath gave the knob a try. It was locked.Fuck.

He had a small set of lockpick tools with him, but the job would require both of his hands, meaning he’d have to reholster the Taser.

The alternatives, he supposed, were to either kick the door in and risk giving the man a head start, or to knock softly and whisper Hale’s name—à la the bin Laden raid—and hope the man was dumb enough to pop his head out so Harvath could zap him in the face.

All things considered, preserving the element of surprise offered him the best odds, and so, after securing the Taser, he pulled out his lockpick tools and went to work. In less than minute, he had the door open.

Pulling his Taser back out and setting his tactical light to strobe, he crept into the apartment.

The suitcase in the living room told him McGee’s intel had been right on the money. Moving past it, Harvath headed for the bedroom.

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