Harvath grinned and walked into the den. “Any updates?”
“All quiet on the western front. And the southern, and the northern, and the eastern.”
“Need anything?”
“Yeah. A suitcase full of nonsequential fifty- and hundred-dollar bills.”
Harvath smiled again. “I’ll have Ambassador Rogers add it to the list. How’s the arm?”
“Only hurts when I laugh.”
“So don’t laugh.”
“Easy for you to say,” Haney replied. “You’re married.”
“So are you,” he said, grinning as he steered the conversation back. “How’s rehab going?”
“They tell me I need to adjust my expectations.”
Harvath braced himself. “How so?”
“Apparently, my dreams of playing violin for the Berlin Philharmonic are ‘unrealistic.’?”
Harvath shook his head. “Are they aware that you don’t even play the violin?”
“Yet,” Haney admonished him. “I don’t play the violinyet.”
“Mike—”
“Can you believe those rehab people?” he continued. “Who signsup for a job where you come in every day just to crush other people’s dreams? It’s not right. I’m telling you.”
Harvath was well-versed in using humor to derail unwanted conversations. He was just about to pin his friend down and have a serious conversation about his injury when the camera feeds flickered and the TV went blank.
As soon as they disappeared, the feeds all came back online.
“What just happened?” asked Harvath.
“I have no idea,” said Haney as he picked up the tablet used to run the security system and cycled through each feed individually. “Power surge? Or some other kind of glitch?”
Harvath doubted it and, by the look on Haney’s face, he doubted it as well. Someone was probing their defenses.
CHAPTER 21
What’s this?” Carolan asked as he and Fields got in the car and she handed him an envelope.
“It’s a request for hazardous duty pay. According to HR, it needs to be signed by an immediate supervisor.”
“We’re going to Baltimore, for crying out loud,” he said, handing it back to her. “Not Baghdad.”
“Have you been to Baltimore lately?”
“I try not to.”
“Exactly my point,” she replied, pulling the request out of the envelope and grabbing a pen from the glove box.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Not your problem.”