There had been only one agent, but there were very likely more on the way. Cheng pulled Daiyu back to her feet.
“Move!” he ordered her.
She looked at his left shoulder and gasped. “You’re bleeding.”
“I told you to move.”
Prodding her toward Summer Street, Cheng ignored the pain in his arm and assessed what he would have to do next. Boston was no longer safe, and sleep was out of the question. In fact, the United States was no longer safe. They needed to get on the road and get to Medusa as soon as possible.
I
NDIAN
V
ALLEY
, I
DAHO
T
he first asset to arrive on station was a surveillance drone, which circled far above the home of Ren Ho. The small ranch, consisting of the house, a barn and several outbuildings, and horses and other assorted livestock, was on the edge of the Payette National Forest.
The terrain was such that a full-on, daylight assault was impossible, so Harvath had suggested something else.
Nicholas wasn’t crazy about using one of his dogs as a prop. And the idea was only made worse by the fact that he wouldn’t be allowed to be there when everything happened. But considering there was no other option, he’d given in.
Special Agent Roe had forwarded all of the information the Bureau had compiled on Ren Ho to Harvath in-flight. They had his naturalization information, his tax returns, and a limited amount about his business dealings. According to the FBI, he was a manufacturer’s rep who paired American companies with factories in China. He had been married at one point, but divorced and the wife had moved back to China. They had a college-age son, who held dual citizenship and appeared to be living with the mother back in Shenzhen.
Roe had included a State Department travel history in the file and told Harvath that the NSA was working to gather any intelligence it could from Ho’s phone, email, and credit card histories. The CIA had come
up completely empty. There was nothing in their files on anyone named Ren Ho.
Shortly before landing, Roe called the plane back and gave Harvath a full rundown on what had happened in Boston. An FBI agent had been following one of the princelings, a girl named Daiyu Jinping. She had eaten dinner alone, which was unusual for her, but what was even stranger was that she had been talking and texting nonstop on an Apple iPhone, but after going to the restroom at the restaurant, the behavior not only stopped, but she had returned with a completely different phone.
Because of the heightened alert, the agent following her reported the suspicious behavior to his superior. The superior then reached out to the other surveillance teams. All of them had been convinced that their subjects were in for the night. A check on the princelings’ cell phone locations had confirmed their assumption. Finally, someone at the FBI called for physical confirmation and one by one, the surveillance teams began to report that the subjects were missing. The phones were plugged in and turned on, but no one was home. Panic quickly spread.
Extra agents were immediately sent to back up the man following Daiyu Jinping. When she entered Boston’s Hyatt Regency Hotel, some agents gave chase, while others went to the security office to monitor the CCTV cameras. Rolling back the footage, they wanted to see if anyone had gotten on the elevator with Daiyu or passed anything to her in the lobby.
They didn’t see anyone, but they did see a man who entered one of the stairwells shortly after the FBI appeared in the lobby. Rolling back the footage a little further, they pinpointed when the man had entered the hotel and were able to piece together everything he had done. He had avoided all of the cameras—all except one near the cash register in the bar. Within minutes of transmitting the image back to the Bureau, the agents had a confirmation. It was Bao Deng.
But no sooner had the man’s identity been confirmed than the fire alarm had been activated. It was an obvious ruse, but it complicated things tremendously for the FBI. They had called for additional backup, including Boston PD, but none of it had arrived in time.
One agent remained in the security office to monitor the CCTV
feeds, while the others tried to locate Deng and the princeling. With all of the guests trying to evacuate the hotel, it was like fighting against a wave of salmon swimming upstream.
Then, Bao Deng had been spotted on CCTV with another figure in a service corridor on the lower level. The agent in the security office rightly pegged figure number two as Daiyu Jinping and fed out a description of what she was wearing and where the pair was headed.
As they came up the garage ramp and exited the hotel, they were accosted by the first FBI agent able to get to them. There was a gunfight. The agent was killed and Deng and the princeling disappeared.
It was bad news on many levels. Not only had a federal agent lost his life, but all of the princelings had now successfully slipped their surveillance. Harvath was willing to bet Bao Deng hadn’t been sent to Boston just to pick up Daiyu Jinping. He very likely had something to do with the other four Chinese students’ falling off the grid.
Leaving the cell phones plugged in and turned on meant that they didn’t want anyone to notice they were gone. That was the most troubling part about all this. Eventually, their absence was going to be noticed. Apparently, though, by that time it wouldn’t matter, which could only mean one thing. The attack was about to happen.
When the Carlton Group’s jet landed in the resort town of McCall, Idaho, about thirty miles northeast of Indian Valley, an FBI command center had already been established at the airport.
A helicopter would transport Harvath, Sloane, Chase, and Nicholas’s dog, Argos, to a ranger station in the Payette National Forest. The ranger knew where Ho’s ranch was and was fairly certain he could get them right up to the property line and drop them off without their being seen. From there, they would be on their own.
The plan was for the helicopter to return to the airport to pick up a team of HRT shooters, while everyone else, including local law enforcement, would approach in SUVs via two unpaved roads.
Harvath had only two rules—nobody did anything until he gave the go-ahead, and Ren Ho was to be taken alive at all costs. Once the radio codes were established, gear was parceled out, and everything was settled, they launched.
While Argos might like Harvath, he didn’t like being separated from his owner. According to Sloane, he had exhibited the same nervous behavior at the NCTC when Nicholas had taken Draco inside and she and Chase had taken him back to the Carlton Group offices.
Harvath tried to reassure the enormous animal by scratching his neck and behind his ears. Eventually, the beast put his head down on his huge front paws and seemed to relax.
Chase looked at Harvath and said via his headset, “That dog is going to hate your guts by the end of the day.”
Harvath shook his head and looked out over the rugged landscape. He had always thought Idaho was one of the most beautiful states in the Union. It contained lots of space with very few people to bother you. If he was right, and the Chinese were planning to collapse the U.S. with a series of EMP devices, Idaho was definitely one of the places he would consider making his stand. If you had prepped enough in advance, and didn’t have any major medical conditions that required hospital visits, you could probably ride it out somewhat comfortably.
The helicopter pilot radioed the ranger station once they were in range and then, after circling the clearing to get a visual, flared and came in for a landing.
Opening the door, Harvath hopped out first, followed by Argos and then Sloane and Chase. Once they had retrieved their gear from the cargo compartment, they retreated a safe distance away and flashed the pilot a thumbs-up.
It took only a moment for the giant bird to lift off and fade from sight beyond the soaring pines. Once it was gone, the thundering sound of its rotors was replaced by something else—total silence. It was amazing how quiet the forest could be.
The ranger introduced himself and led the team to his SUV. On the hood, he had laid out a detailed topo map. He explained where they were, where Ho’s ranch was, and the route he would be taking to deliver them to the drop-off point.
“You all ready to go, then?” the ranger asked.
Chase looked at Argos and then at Harvath. “What do you say, Dr. Doolittle?”
“Help me get him in the truck,” Harvath replied.
Walking around to the back of the SUV, they opened the tailgate and coaxed Argos to jump inside. Once the dog was in, Harvath leaped up and joined him. He had the dog lie down and then took his giant head in his lap.
“All right, let’s do it.”
Chase removed a tube of Derma Bond—the medical equivalent of Krazy Glue—and Sloane produced the small stone they had selected at the airport.
Nicholas had shown her the sensitive pocket of tissue on the dog’s paw, between the pads, and that’s where she placed the stone. Pinching the lips of the pocket together, careful not to get any on her fingers, she held everything in place as Chase covered it in Derma Bond. As they did that, Harvath tried to keep the big dog distracted.
Argos looked over at Sloane and Chase once or twice, but didn’t seem to be terribly interested in what they were doing. He was more interested in the attention he was getting from Harvath.
When it was done, Sloane nodded and then she and Chase closed the hatch and climbed into the SUV with the ranger. For the duration of the ride, Harvath’s job was to keep Argos’s mind on anything but that paw.
T
he ride down from the ranger station took a half hour. As they neared the spot where Chase was going to be dropped off, they did a final radio check.
When the ranger brought the SUV to a halt, he pointed to a stand of trees and said, “Fifty yards in is the creek. You’ll hear it before you see it. The path is on the east side. Can’t miss it.”
“Got it,” Chase replied. Gathering up his ruck and his rifle, he opened the door. “See you all down there.”
“Don’t get lost,” said Harvath.
Chase smiled.
Once he had closed the door, the ranger put his truck in gear and drove Harvath and Sloane to their drop-off point. Their approach would be a little more difficult.
When they arrived at their spot, the ranger pulled over and cut his ignition. Coming around to the back of the vehicle, he waited for Sloane before opening the hatch.
She checked the glue on Argos’s paw and then flashed Harvath the thumbs-up. “It’s all dry,” she said.
Harvath told the dog to stay as he climbed out of the back. He didn’t want Argos jumping down onto that paw. It was going to be uncomfortable enough walking on it as it was. He didn’t want to compound it for him.
With Sloane and the ranger helping, they lifted Argos out of the back and set him down. It only took him a few steps to realize there was something aggravating the bottom of his right front paw.
“All right,” said Harvath. “Let’s get going before he decides he wants to sit down and start chewing on it.”
The ranger headed toward the trees and they followed.
The forest floor was soft and made it easier on Argos, but Harvath could already see he was starting to favor his paw.
Soon enough, they arrived at the edge of the tree line. The ranger held up his hand for them to stop, and everyone listened for a moment. Except for the sounds of the forest, it was completely quiet.
“This is as far as I go,” he said. “About three hundred yards down from here is where the property begins. There’s an old logging road. Follow it downhill and it’ll take you right to his front door.”
Harvath and Sloane thanked the ranger and watched as he walked back up through the trees to his SUV.
Removing the radio from his backpack, Harvath unfolded the antenna and established comms with the command center back at the airport. While Sloane kept Argos busy, Harvath gave the team at the airport a brief situation report. Once Chase radioed in that he was in place and the coast was clear, Harvath signed off and packed up the radio.
After doing a final weapons check, he and Sloane headed for the logging road.
About halfway to the ranch, Argos had gone from favoring his paw to a slight limp. By the time the ranch came into view, the limp was pronounced and unmistakable. Even though Harvath knew it wasn’t intense pain, he hated having to put the dog through it. Nevertheless, Argos was tough and kept moving.
As they walked, Harvath scanned for cameras. He didn’t see any, but he could sense they were being watched, so he and Sloane played their act to maximum effect.
Every fifty to a hundred yards they stopped, Harvath bent down to examine the dog’s leg, and then they would start up again. By the time they came in sight of Ho’s ranch house, Harvath was convinced the man had seen all of it.
On cue, they saw a figure leave the house, climb into a Gator side-by-side utility vehicle, and strike off in their direction.
The key to any successful con wasn’t getting people to put their faith in you. It was making them think that you had put your faith in them. The quickest way to do that was to ask for a favor.
Posing as hikers who had lost their way was a lame con. But add an injured dog to the scenario and suddenly things became a lot more believable, especially in a heavily rural area. Farmers and ranchers understood animals. They also lived by the code that compelled them to assist others in need. The favor in this case was obvious.
“Here he comes,” Harvath said.
Sloane had noticed him, too, and nodded in response.
Because their radios were hidden in their backpacks, they had to trust that Chase, dug in where no one could see him, was also watching everything unfold through the Schmidt & Bender scope atop his .50 caliber Barrett M107A1. If they came under attack, he was their first line of defense. In fact, they were counting on Chase disrupting any potential attack before it happened. According to the drone footage, though, there was only one person at the ranch.
Harvath wasn’t willing to bet everything on a drone, but its camera and infrared imaging had been very clear. In any case, they would have their answer soon enough.