Page 57 of Edge of Honor

The patio was covered with blood, bodies, and broken glass. As he passed, he signaled McGee to cover him.

Turning the corner, he moved along the side of the house where Haney had not only blown out the windows, but had also blown massive holes through the walls. The two attackers on that side had been ripped apart by the blasts from his shotgun. Ballistic helmets and hard plates in their vests had not been enough to save them.

Their faces were obliterated. It would take fingerprinting or DNA to identify them. Harvath doubted dental records would even be of any use. The bodies on the patio, however, were another story.

As Harvath circled back around, McGee had already used the toe of his boot to raise all of their night-vision goggles. He wasn’t bothering to check for vitals. It was obvious from the extent of their injuries that they were dead as well.

All of them, including the two dead men with the ladder, looked Caucasian to Harvath. American. Not a single one of them looked Iranian.

Pointing down at one of the attackers lying in a congealing pool of blood on the patio, McGee said, “I think I recognize this guy.”

“From where?”

“I think he was Agency. Maybe a contractor.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harvath replied.

McGee shook his head and, taking out his phone, began taking pictures of all the corpses.

As he did, Harvath told him not to bother with the two around the corner and had Haney go get Rogers and bring him back downstairs.

When the Ambassador stepped through the broken glass of the living room and out onto the patio, Harvath asked him if he recognized any of the attackers.

He took his time, examining each one, but ended up shaking his head. “I haven’t seen any of these men before,” he responded. “Who the hell are they?”

“I’ve got no idea,” said Harvath as he patted them down. Not a single one of them was carrying any ID or a phone. It was another professional job.

Returning from examining the rest of the bodies, McGee held up his cell phone and showed Rogers pictures of the two men who had been attempting to scale the roof.

Harvath and McGee watched as the color drained from the man’s face.

“That’s them,” the Ambassador stated. “Those are the men who came after me yesterday in Rock Creek Park.”

CHAPTER 28

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Carolan and Fields had been at White Wolf Combat almost the entire night. The amount of red tape and paperwork the shooting had created was record-breaking—even by government standards.

Baltimore PD secured the scene while agents from headquarters and the FBI’s Baltimore Field Office were brought in to conduct the investigation.

There were plenty of familiar faces. Even Agent Kennedy had shown up in a sign of solidarity and support, tracking down coffees for them and sitting for a while making small talk.

As far as Carolan was concerned, it was an absolutely justifiable use of lethal force. The final decision, however, would come down to the FBI’s Shooting Incident Review Group. Unfortunately for Fields, they wouldn’t be meeting again until September. Carolan couldn’t wait that long. He needed her with him on the street, not behind a desk on administrative leave.

The key was their boss, Gallo. He could push her through, but not without airtight, unassailable evidence that she had been in the right.

Carolan had a gut feeling that evidence was sitting right at the crime scene, just waiting to be uncovered, and he had leaned on the Baltimore Field Office to find it for him.

In order to preserve the integrity of the investigation, however, anything they were able to come up with couldn’t go to him, the partner ofthe shooter and a key witness to the event, it had to go to their supervisor. That was fine with Carolan.

After driving Fields home and making sure that she was stable and okay to be on her own, Carolan had returned to his house, crawled into bed with his wife, and fallen instantly asleep.

When his phone starting vibrating on the nightstand, he was positive he’d only been out for a few minutes. In reality, he’d been asleep for six solid hours.

He could tell by the caller ID that it was Gallo.

“Carolan,” he said, activating the call.

---