Page 23 of Edge of Honor

Glancing at his phone, he saw that his Uber was getting closer.

“Gotta go,” he said, giving her a kiss. “I’ll text you later about lunch.”

It was a short walk from the house to the pickup point he had entered into the app. For security purposes, he preferred to share his true address as seldom as possible.

The driver was right on time, had the car perfectly air-conditioned, and wasn’t much of a talker. It made for the perfect ride as far as Harvath was concerned. They made the thirty-five-mile trip in just under forty minutes, which was practically a world record considering the ubiquitous D.C. traffic.

Arriving at the Carlton Group offices, Scot found it a little strange not to be entering through the garage and taking the private elevator up. But without a key card and parking pass, he had to enter via the main lobby like everyone else.

After being announced and granted access, he was directed to the appropriate elevator where the floor for the Carlton Group had already been entered. He stepped into the carriage and rode up by himself, humming the Albino Superstars song he had teased Sølvi with just the day before.

When the chime sounded and the doors opened, he entered the office for the first time since having cleared out his desk. He had wondered how it would feel and it actually felt pretty damn good. He traded pleasantries with the two security agents standing near the desk, inquired after the receptionist’s children, and then thanked her as she told him which conference room to head toward and buzzed him in.

Taking the back hall, he only saw a handful of people. As usual, the Carlton Group was in the thick of a hundred different things and no one really had the time to stop and make small talk. He waved, traded a few fist bumps, and kept moving. At the conference room door, he knocked and then let himself in.

The dogs perked up the moment they saw him, but with a quiet command, Nicholas directed them to stay put.

Scot walked to the table and greeted the Ambassador, before shaking hands with Nicholas and then bending down to give Argos and Draco a little attention. When he was done, he took a seat across from Rogers.

“Thank you for coming,” said Nicholas. “I hope Sølvi doesn’t mind that we called you in.”

“Don’t worry. She thinks I’m playing golf.”

“In a suit?”

Scot smiled. “Of course not. Come on. She knows exactly where I am and why I’m here. If it wasn’t for you two, I wouldn’t have made it out of Russia alive. I’m at your service. What do you need?”

“The Ambassador may have an issue that needs handling,” said Nicholas.

“What kind of issue?”

“I think the Iranians are trying to kill me,” Rogers replied.

“Because of the Soleimani hit?”

The Ambassador nodded.

“If that’s true, you don’t need to hire the Carlton Group. If you drew the Iranians’ ire while working for the U.S. government and carrying out the policies of the previous administration, that is a cut-and-dried Secret Service issue.”

“Which is what I told him,” Nicholas replied. Then turning to Rogers, he said, “Now tell Scot what you told me.”

The Ambassador cleared his throat and stated, “The Secret Service said no.”

“Excuse me?” Harvath responded, certain that he must have heard the man wrong. “They said what?”

“According to the Secret Service, I’m on my own.”

CHAPTER 12

Apologizing for making him do it a second time, Harvath had the Ambassador go all the way back to the beginning of his story and tell him everything he had relayed to Nicholas. No detail was too small or too trivial. And when he was done, Harvath made him repeat it all again and battered him with questions at every turn.

Seeing the two goons earlier in the day, only to see them again on a running trail in Rock Creek Park that evening might have been the world’s most incredible coincidence—something Harvath didn’t believe in—but when they had chased Rogers up and over a hill into traffic, that’s where all mystery surrounding their intent should have evaporated.

Rogers was right to be concerned, and Harvath believed the man’s instincts were spot-on. He wasn’t overreacting and had no reason to make any of this up.

Wisely, the Ambassador had asked the Park Police to forward a copy of their report to the Secret Service. There would be a paper trail putting them on notice.

What made no sense, however, was that as Rogers had been driven toward Reagan National, he had called the Secret Service again, only to be told that once they received the report, someone would look into it.

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