Page 115 of Edge of Honor

As the men entered the elevator and the doors closed, Harvath noticed a nervousness about them. One was tapping his foot, while another was tapping his left index finger against his thigh.

Without saying goodbye, he disconnected his call with Nicholas, slipped his phone into his back pocket, and placed both hands, as casually as he could, on his hips.

He watched the men who kept looking at their sergeant, as if waiting for some kind of command. Then he noticed their hands inching toward their sidearms.

As the sergeant pulled his pistol, he yelled, “Now!”

Harvath came out with his dagger, which he used to stab the officer next to him in the neck. At the same time, he drew his Glock with his right hand and shot the officer standing directly in front of him.

The sergeant got off three rounds, all of which appeared to have bounced off Fuller’s plate carrier.

Wallace put a bullet into the sergeant’s head and then two rounds into the remaining officer, who had been standing just next to him. The entire altercation had gone down in less than four seconds.

As the elevator chimed and they arrived at the lower level, they had their weapons up and at the ready—not knowing what would be waiting for them.

When the doors opened, there was a smattering of bystanders, who had likely heard the shots and gathered to see what was going on, butnothing immediately threatening. Pulling the elevator’s stop button and triggering the alarm, Harvath stepped out, followed by Wallace. Fuller, however, didn’t move.

Turning around to see what the holdup was, Harvath could see blood running from under Fuller’s arm and down the side of his plate carrier.

“I think I’ve been shot,” the big man admitted, shallow of breath.

Together Harvath and Wallace helped him from the elevator and sat him down in a nearby chair. As Harvath radioed Gaines to tell him what had happened, one of the bystanders ran to get a medical kit.

“Uniformed Secret Service?” Gaines asked. “Are you positive?”

“Come down here and check for yourself,” he replied angrily. “You’ve still got a fucking leak, Russ. If you don’t find it and plug it, I will.”

“I’m working on it.”

“How far out are the paramedics for Fuller?”

“They’re already on their way to you.”

“Good,” said Harvath. “Now all I need are those three Iron Tree assholes I’m looking for.”

“We just got a report that one of them was spotted on your level. I’m texting a schematic with a pin to your phone now.”

When the text came through, Harvath checked it and replied, “Got it. On my way.”

The bystander had returned with the medical kit, and Wallace, who had helped remove Fuller’s plate carrier, was already applying a pressure bandage.

“You going to be okay?” Harvath asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Wallace responded. “Go.”

That was all Harvath needed to hear. Getting his bearings, he charged off toward where a security guard believed he had seen a man who matched the photo of one of their suspects.

As he moved, he dictated texts to both Sølvi and Carolan. He wanted them to know what was happening down below and to be cautious around any Secret Service personnel they saw.

When he got close to the portion of the lower level where the “cages” were kept, he took one last look at the schematic and then slid his phone back into his pocket.

He thought about relaying an update to Gaines over the radio but decided against it. If the man wanted to track him via the CCTV system, that was fine. Other than that, he didn’t want to directly contribute any information to the Secret Service pipeline. Someone had already tried to have him killed. He didn’t intend to give them another opportunity.

Up ahead he saw one of the convention center’s private security guards. She was a short, middle-aged Asian woman with glasses who looked like she took her job very seriously.

Walking up to her, Harvath held up his phone with the three pictures on it. She pointed to the man in the middle.

“Where’d you see him?” he asked.

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