Page 40 of Edge of Honor

“Meaning, am I ready to be the bait?” Rogers answered, reprising his earlier concern over the operation. “I guess so.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Harvath replied as he checked his flight-tracker app again. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

Once they had decided to help Rogers, one of the first things Harvath had asked Nicholas to do was to kill the Ambassador’s old phone. If he was being hunted, the last thing they wanted was a hit team to show up at some sweet family’s home in Colorado—all because Rogers had slipped his phone into grandma’s suitcase.

After deciding which return flight they would use as their Trojan horse, Nicholas waited until an hour before its departure and then activated a phantom signal at Denver International. The goal was to make it look like Rogers had popped back onto the grid and was on the move. When the D.C.-bound flight took off, Nicholas made it appear as if the phone had been switched into airplane mode and was using the in-flight Wi-Fi.

Whether the people who were after the Ambassador had the tools and were sophisticated enough to put it together didn’t matter to Harvath. His job was merely to scent the trail.

“Do you actually think they’d send somebody after me here? To the airport?”

“That’s what I want to find out,” said Harvath, glancing up from his phone. “It looks like the flight from Denver just landed. We’re going to walk over to Terminal One and turn on the clone we made of your phone. Do you like Dunkin’ Donuts?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“There’s a Dunkin’ before the security checkpoint. Get a coffee. Get a bear claw. Whatever you want. We just need to give your signal long enough to populate. Then you’re going to walk outside and wait for the shuttle bus to the economy lot. When it comes, you get on. Just like we discussed. Understood?”

The Ambassador nodded.

“Good. Let’s get going.”

Nicholas opened the door and Harvath and the Ambassador got out.

Per Harvath’s instructions, Rogers put on the baseball cap and sunglasses, and had a small backpack slung over one shoulder. It wasimportant that he look like a man who was trying to remain incognito as he moved through the airport. If he looked like bait, their fishing expedition would be over before it even started.

Carrying his overnight bag and putting on his own sunglasses, Harvath rode down in the elevator with Rogers and then let him walk ahead. It wasn’t exactly “close” protection, but it was the best Harvath could do given their situation.

When Rogers entered Terminal One, he turned on the phone he had been given and then headed for Dunkin’. There, having already had plenty of coffee, he ordered an iced tea.

Harvath hung back, watching to see if the Ambassador was being followed. So far, he didn’t notice anyone on his tail.

As soon as Rogers had his drink, they moved through the baggage claim area and, using different doors, exited the terminal.

They walked to the shuttle bus pickup, where Harvath stood close, but not too close, to the Ambassador. While Rogers pretended to scroll on his phone, Harvath kept his head on a discreet swivel. Neither man acknowledged the other.

By the time they boarded the bus to the economy lot, it was standing room only. Crowds were great to get lost in, but that could be a two-way street. A skilled assassin could quietly attack and disappear at the next stop before anyone knew what had happened. Harvath made sure to stay close to Rogers and he kept his eyes wide-open.

Arriving at the economy lot, they debussed together and walked separately to their vehicles. All the while, Harvath kept his eyes peeled for threats. This part—moving through the parking lot, with its practically limitless possibility for ambush—was one of the steps in the plan that had concerned him the most.

He moved slowly, allowing the Ambassador to get to his car first. If he needed to spring into action, he didn’t want to have to leap out of his car to do so. He much preferred to already be on his feet and able to get his gun quickly into the fight.

Thankfully, however, that hadn’t proved necessary. Rogers made it back to his vehicle, retrieved his key fob, and fired up his Audi. As soon as Harvath saw him backing out of his spot, he picked up his pace.

Unlocking the Malibu, he tossed his bag on the back seat and climbed behind the wheel. Rogers had been told to go slow, even stopping and pretending he was searching for his ticket, until he saw Harvath’s vehicle closing in.

Exiting the economy lot, Harvath allowed Rogers to get a couple of car lengths ahead. He didn’t need to be right on his bumper. All that mattered was that he be able to spot any potential tails. So far, so good.

And as an additional set of eyes, several car lengths farther behind, Nicholas followed in his blacked-out van.

The drive to McLean was clogged with afternoon traffic, and as much as it sucked for Harvath to do it without AC, he knew that the next leg was going to be even worse.

When they arrived at their destination—an indoor public parking garage for an office building adjacent to the Tysons Corner mall—Harvath followed Rogers inside while Nicholas pulled into the open-air lot across the street and kept an eye on the entrance.

Though not eager to screw around, Harvath had agreed to one request from Rogers. If they were going to use an enclosed garage to ditch Harvath’s vehicle, it might as well be one attached to a good restaurant.

The Capital Grille’s curbside pickup service had the Ambassador’s order ready to go the minute they pulled in. All he’d had to do was notify them that he’d arrived. He was not only a regular, but also a good tipper. They had no problem bringing it to the garage versus handing it to him at the front door.

The Ambassador put the bags on the passenger seat as Harvath loaded his gear as efficiently as he could in the trunk.

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