Page 41 of Edge of Honor

He had already mapped the trip to the Ambassador’s house and knew how long, even in lousy traffic, it should take.

Unscrewing his water bottle, he took a long swallow and climbed into the trunk. As Rogers came around to close the lid, Harvath reminded him, “Right home. No stops. I don’t want to spend a second longer back here than I have to.”

“Copy that,” the Ambassador said, carefully lowering the lid and pressing down on it to make sure that it was closed.

Within seconds he had started the car, backed out of the space, andwas heading for the exit. Harvath had no idea if they were being followed. In addition to not finding any explosives in the car, Nicholas’s tech hadn’t found any tracking devices either.

The thinking behind leaving the cloned cell phone where Rogers could retrieve it was that if anyone was locked on to his signal, they would know that he had “returned” to D.C. and was on the move. After a brief stop at one of his favorite restaurants, he was now on his way home.

And, if they were dumb enough to come after him at the house, Harvath was going to make sure it was one of the last things they ever did. All he had to do was survive the car ride.

CHAPTER 20

Ambassador Rogers’s house was on a heavily wooded, two-and-a-half-acre parcel backing up to the Potomac River. It was an absolutely gorgeous property. There was a reason they called this part of McLean the Gold Coast. It was also going to be a nightmare to defend.

From the moment Harvath had seen Nicholas’s satellite imagery, he knew he was going to have his work cut out for him.

The trees were enormous, with leafy branches almost to the ground. You could practically hide half a platoon behind each one. And they came all the way up to the house.

There were bushes, hedges, and grasses so thick and tall they could swallow up an entire elementary school.

The house itself was a modern two-story, painted white, with a metal roof and black accents. From its sophisticated exterior lighting to the perfectly manicured grass between the pavers, it was obvious that Rogers was a detail guy. Harvath had only wished that he’d had that same eye when it came to the role landscaping played in a home’s security.

Harvath was actually surprised that back when he was the National Security Advisor and had an active Secret Service detail, they hadn’t gotten him to trim all the foliage back. It was, in his opinion, the Ambassador’s biggest Achilles’ heel.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he felt Rogers’s Audi slow and then turn off the main road onto gravel.

They had arrived at the house and were now crunching down his driveway. Harvath was baking inside the trunk and couldn’t wait to get out.

Using his remote, the Ambassador opened the garage door and pulled into the first bay. Turning off his ignition, he gathered up the bags of to-go food from the Capital Grille, got out of his car, and walked over to the door that led into the house.

There, he pushed one of the three buttons mounted on the wall and closed the garage door. As soon as the overhead lift fell silent, he set down the food and returned to the Audi to help Harvath out of the trunk.

Popping the lid, he looked down and asked, “Still alive?”

“Barely,” joked Harvath, who was slick with sweat. Accepting Rogers’s hand, he climbed out.

As he did, the door from the house opened, revealing a large man with a short-barreled shotgun.

“You’re out of chocolate ice cream,” he said.

Harvath shook his head. “Ambassador Rogers, I’d like to introduce you to Mike Haney. Mike, meet the Ambassador.”

The ex–Force Recon Marine from Marin County, California, stepped into the garage and shook the man’s hand. “You’re also out of San Pellegrino.”

Rogers smiled. “I’ll add it on the grocery list.”

“No trouble finding the place?” Harvath asked, arching his back as he tried to get the kinks out of his muscles before unloading the trunk.

Haney shook his head. “This place is basically in the CIA’s backyard. The hardest part was deciding where to park.”

“You guys didn’t leave your cars at Langley, did you?” Harvath asked, concerned.

“What are we, newbs? Of course not. Bob has a buddy, retired Agency guy like him, who lives out this way. We parked at his place and he dropped us about two miles downriver. We hiked the rest of the way in. But don’t tell Nicholas that. I’m still ‘recuperating,’?” he said, using his fingers to make air quotes.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell him a thing. He made it quite clear that I wasn’t allowed to involve you in this.”

“Ever since the baby came, he’s no fun anymore.”

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