Path of the Assassin (20 page)

“‘Us’ who? The United States Government?”

“More to the point, the CIA.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Don’t make her work with them.”

“And who would you suggest she work with?”

“Delegate the task of identifying Hashim Nidal to another agency like the DOD,” replied Harvath. “We’ve got a war going against terrorism, so having her interface with the Department of Defense would make complete sense. It’ll upset the CTC people a bit, but all they were going to do was have her sift through pictures and descriptions from the world’s top terrorist databases anyway. The DOD can access those.

“You begin at the top and work your way down. For starters, there’s the German
Kommissar
system. That one has backgrounds on countless suspected and known terrorists worldwide, including photographs, fingerprints, dental records, voiceprints, and a ton of other data. All Defense has to do is narrow the parameters of the search so she’s not reviewing material she doesn’t need to see.

“Next on the list, like it or not, the CIA will have to allow the DOD access to their DESIST database. There’s also the State Department’s international terrorist database, and then the FBI’s Terrorist Information System. If there’s a record of this guy anywhere, they’ll find it.”

“That all makes perfect sense, but unfortunately it’s not that easy,” said the president. “First of all, we don’t have time to transfer the investigation to another agency and secondly, we’re not just talking about sitting Meg Cassidy in front of a computer monitor and flashing digital mug shots at her. The CIA needs to recruit her.”

“Recruit her? What for?”

“Director Vaile feels they’re close to nailing the exact location of Hashim Nidal’s base of operations.”

“So then we insert a Special Ops team to direct fire, bring in some fast movers, and smoke the entire place. End of story.”

“Nope. Not
end of story
. We will need confirmation that we have not only devastated his training camp, but that we are taking out the man himself. For that we need a positive on-site ID, and Meg Cassidy is the only person who can make that identification.”

“But she’s a civilian.”

“Which is precisely why the CIA needs to train her. She’s going to have to insert with a team, go along as they conduct the operation, and get out.”

“And that team would be Operation Phantom under the command of Rick Morrell.”

“That’s it.”

“Well, now I’m not so confused anymore. Not only is it extremely dangerous, but it’s got to scare a civilian half to death.”

“That’s probably not the only reason this is distasteful for her,” added Lawlor.

“Now is probably a good time for you to contribute your part, Gary. Why don’t you go ahead.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” responded Lawlor before continuing. “Scot, as the president said, the CIA’s reasons for approaching Ms. Cassidy were sound, but their methods weren’t. From what I have been able to gather from the CIA’s inner agency reports—”

“I don’t want to bog us down, but before we go any further, can you please explain what the FBI’s interest in Meg Cassidy is and why the FBI’s deputy director is reviewing CIA inner agency reports?” asked Harvath.

Lawlor looked to the president, who nodded his head. “I am not directly operating on this in my capacity as deputy director right now.”

“Then how are you operating on this?”

“As part of the FBI’s restructuring, the president has suggested the creation of a unit to implement what is being referred to as our new strike-first policy. While I will consult with the FBI from time to time, I will report directly to the president,” said Lawlor.

“About what?”

“In a sense, I’m a consultant at this point, trying to help figure out how to better defend our country. There are certain operations, such as Operation Phantom, that I have taken an interest in. The president has agreed to let me be involved in a supervisory capacity. That’s all I am going to say at this point.”

Harvath knew Lawlor well enough to know not to push for more information. Even as a Secret Service agent granted an extreme amount of latitude by the president of the United States, he was not on a direct need-to-know basis on this one, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Lawlor took Harvath’s silence as an indication to continue and did. “From what I can gather, Morrell put the squeeze on Meg Cassidy for information on Nidal the minute he discovered she had seen his face.”

“I can verify it. He wasn’t about to let her alone until I stepped in. I had to fight to get her medical attention.”

“Okay, I’ve skimmed the lengthy transcript of your debriefing at Langley with Frank Mraz yesterday, so I understand you spent most of the flight back to Chicago talking with her. You then had lunch together and she saw you off?”

“That was it. She had caught a couple of naps on the plane and was pretty tired. So was I. That was pretty much it.”

“Do you think she likes you?” asked Lawlor as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned in toward Harvath.

“
Likes me?
What does that have to do with anything?”

“A lot, potentially.”

“I suppose so. But I think it was nothing more than appreciation.”

“I think it might be more than that.”

“Even if it was, which I doubt, so what?”

“Scot, we need Meg Cassidy on board immediately. The CIA wants to get her started with their File of International Terrorist Events right away. Their analysts are hoping that with her help, they can crawl a little bit deeper into Nidal’s head and forecast his future behavior.”

“Maybe they should try sending her flowers.”

“Nothing they do at this point is going to work. She doesn’t trust them. She thinks they used her as bait with that attack on the hospital.”

“In a sense,” said Harvath, “they did use her as bait.”

“There was no way they could have ever expected Nidal would come gunning for her. They figured he had gone to ground or was trying to make his way out of the country. On top of it all, they had reliable information from Ms. Cassidy herself that she had shot him.”

“They still should have expected it. I would have. You expect the unexpected in this business. By the way, did you get my message about protection for Meg Cassidy?”

“Yes, and we were already one step ahead of you. The Chicago field office is keeping an eye on her.”

“Good.”

“Listen, Scot, as far as all of this is concerned, we can’t change what the CIA has done. That’s in the past. What we need is to convince Ms. Cassidy to work with us now, and that’s what we want you to talk to her about,” said Lawlor.

“Me? What do you want me to tell her? I can’t stand Morrell and his people.”

“That’s precisely it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Think about it. Meg Cassidy knows you don’t harbor any warm and fuzzy feelings for the CIA. What’s more, you saved her life and saw that she was safely taken care of. You’re the perfect person to convince her. She’ll trust you.”

“You want me to use that trust against her?”

“Look at the bigger picture here. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of lives could be riding on this. We have no way of telling. We don’t want you to shanghai Meg Cassidy. On the contrary, she needs to participate of her own free will. We want her to see things from your perspective—why you’re doing this and what’s at stake for you personally.”

“I don’t think she’ll relate to my motives,” said Harvath as he reflected on them.

“We know that you’re motivated by a deep love and concern for your country. Most of the staff at the White House still joke that Mel Gibson had to come to you to get the rights to use the name
The Patriot
for his movie.”

Harvath hated that joke. He didn’t see himself as any more patriotic than any of the other people he had served with in the SEALs or in the Secret Service. Asking Meg to put her life on the line to prove her patriotism didn’t seem like a fair proposition.

“All we’re saying,” continued Lawlor, “is that you should be honest with her. If you don’t care for Morrell and his people, feel free to let her know. This is a woman who can smell a spin from a mile away. Just don’t go too over the top. We trust you to say what is necessary to bring her in.”

“As a civilian,” injected the president, “she would also be eligible for a portion of the reward on Nidal. It would be done quietly, but it would be available to her if she wanted it, nonetheless.”

“I don’t think that would matter to her,” replied Harvath.

“Whether it matters or not, she deserves to know it exists,” said the president.

Harvath thought about Lawlor’s proposal for a moment before asking, “Would I participate in her training?”

“As the president said,” answered Lawlor, “this is the CIA’s baby, but I can’t see why you wouldn’t participate, can you, Mr. President?”

“I can’t either,” replied the president. “There is nobody I trust more or who is more capable than you to see to her safety. Let’s not forget, this is a highly unprecedented and potentially explosive operation. We’re taking a civilian and fast-tracking her through training so that she can participate in a top-secret covert operation. When it’s all said and done, I want Meg Cassidy delivered home without so much as a scratch on her. This is an American hero we’re talking about here. The public would be outraged if any harm came to her. You do whatever it takes. We’re asking a lot from this woman, and I want you to protect her with the same degree of vigilance you would protect me. And, lest we forget why we’re even having this conversation, I want Hashim Nidal to cease being a problem for us, and the rest of the world.”

That was all Scot Harvath needed to hear. He had been given a direct order by his commander in chief. It was not a question of
if
he could convince Meg Cassidy to come on board. He absolutely had to. Hashim Nidal was to be taken out and Meg Cassidy returned home without harm. The president had handed him quite an assignment. The only question Harvath had at that point was, “When do I leave?”

“Tonight,” said Lawlor as he slid an envelope with cash and plane tickets across the situation room table to him.

Harvath’s ride into downtown Chicago wasn’t as fancy as it had been a couple of days before. He grabbed a Continental airport shuttle, which dropped him across the street from the Ambassador East Hotel. Once he was settled, he put in a call to his contact at the Chicago FBI field office. Nick Wilson was an old friend whom Harvath had worked with several times in the past. Wilson explained that Meg Cassidy was at her cottage in Lake Geneva and that he had new information he was sure Harvath would be interested in hearing. They made plans to meet for drinks, and then Harvath hung up and dialed Meg’s number in Wisconsin.

A few moments later, he had her on the phone. “You’re back in town?” she asked.

“Yes, and I need to see you,” replied Harvath.

Meg was guarded and realized he probably had not come back just to see her again. This was business. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Were you sent here to try and change my mind about things?”

“Believe it or not, my instructions were to explain to you what
my
motivation is, but for what it’s worth, I’m not sorry I got sent back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I love Chicago. It’s the one town that won’t let you down.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, disappointed that he hadn’t cited her as the reason he was happy to be back. This was ridiculous. What was she doing? He was here to try and persuade her to team up with the CIA. He had been sent on official business, and she needed to get that through her head.

“How about dinner? It’s on me. What time will you be back in the city?”

“I’m spending the night up here. I won’t be back in the city until tomorrow morning.”

“Well,” said Harvath as he scribbled on the pad on his desk, “that’s going to make dinner a bit difficult then, isn’t it?”

“How about breakfast?”

“That would work. Do you want to eat here at the hotel? I’m staying at the Ambassador East.”

“Let’s meet at Mitchell’s on the corner of North Avenue and Clark Street around eight. This way I can drop my car at my place and meet you over there. It’s an easy walk for both of us.”

“Great, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“I wouldn’t be too excited about it if I were you. I’ve already made my position on this very clear.”

“I understand, and whatever you decide, I’ll respect. I just want a chance to talk with you about it. I think we see eye to eye in many ways on this subject.”

“I don’t think you know the half of it.”

“Well, you can fill me in tomorrow morning. Okay?”

“Fine then. I’ll see you at Mitchell’s around eight,” and with that, Meg Cassidy hung up the phone.

Harvath was already sitting at a table in the Ambassador East’s famed Pump Room when Nick Wilson entered. They made small talk while waiting for their drinks, and then, once the waitress had left the table, Wilson got straight to the point. He removed a large manila envelope from his briefcase and spread several grisly Chicago Police Department crime scene photos on the table in front of them.

“This guy’s been torn apart,” said Harvath as he sifted through the pictures.

“Just his throat,” replied Wilson as he took a sip of his drink and used the straw to draw Harvath’s attention to the wounds.

“Who the hell was he?”

“Serial rapist the Chicago PD had been after for some time.”

“What’s this have to do with Meg Cassidy?”

“She’s the one who did that to him.”

Harvath couldn’t believe it. As he picked up the photos to study them more closely, Wilson held up his empty glass and signaled the waitress. “You want another?” he asked.

“No,” answered Harvath. “When did this happen?”

“A couple of years ago. Apparently, Ms. Cassidy had been jogging through Lincoln Park one night a little bit later than she should have. It was dark and she got jumped by this scumbag. According to the report, she screamed, but nobody was around to hear her. He pinned her down and shoved something in her mouth to gag her. She fought back, though, hard. Clawed at him and everything.”

“What happened?”

“
What happened?
She went for his windpipe, dug her nails in, and ripped the guy’s throat out. That’s what happened.”

“You’re joking, right?” said Scot.

“Hell, no. She killed the guy.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it. The cops did DNA testing on the stiff and found that he was the serial rapist they’d been looking for. She was lucky. He’d put most of his victims in the hospital. One even died.”

“Nick, why wasn’t this in her file back in D.C.?”

“It never saw the light of day. Her father was a career cop and well liked to boot. He obviously had some pretty good juice with the department to hush this all up. The only thing that ever got announced was that the police had found the body of their serial rapist, and that it was suspected he’d been killed in some sort of drug deal gone bad. That was it.”

“How’d you get your hands on it?” asked Harvath.

“Headquarters was pretty intent on us finding out everything we could about her. We were told to leave no stone unturned. Why they were so interested in her, I don’t know, but mine is not to reason why, you know?” Wilson waited for the waitress to set his fresh drink down and depart before he began speaking again. “I’ve got a friend at the Chicago Police Department. He’s been there a long time and has an even longer memory. He owed me a couple of favors. You know how the game works.”

Harvath nodded his head. He did know how the game worked. As he studied the crime scene photos yet again, a lot of things about Meg Cassidy became clearer. The question now was, with everything she had been through, how in the world could he convince her to team up with the CIA?