Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Stopping to grab Nicholas and the dogs, Harvath drove down to the caretaker's cottage to greet the new arrivals. He had decided to keep them out of sight from S?lvi and from Grechko. There was nothing to be gained from either of them being read in on this part of the operation.

As he and Nicholas entered the cottage, he could see that the dining table was stacked with the commandos' equipment.

"Why don't you just swim into the harbor and stick a mine to the bottom of his boat?" Haney asked, examining the men's gear.

"Because his hull is a composite of fiberglass and carbon fiber," the first commando, whose name was Max—short for Maxsym, replied. "Magnetic mines won't work."

"Why not use suction cups?"

"Too much drag," the second commando, named Petro, answered. "Once the boat gets underway, the attachment to the hull begins to fail. Even before the boat pops out of the hole and gets on plane, the mine will be ripped away."

"Huh," Haney replied, as he went back to looking at their kit.

"Thank you for coming," Harvath said, as he and Nicholas introduced themselves and shook hands with the commandos.

"Thank you for the opportunity," Max responded. "Arkady Tsybulsky has been a priority target for us since the war began."

"With the support we receive from France," Petro added, "I always assumed that taking him out here was a nonstarter."

"It still is," said Harvath.

Both men looked at him, uncertain as to whether they had heard him correctly.

"Everything's going to happen next door, in Monaco," Harvath explained. "And I can't stress this enough—territorial integrity is key to this operation. Monaco has the world's shortest coastline, only 2.38 miles, so our timing has to be perfect. If we pull this off, your country is not only going to get massive international headlines, but every single Russian oligarch, no matter where in the world they are, is going to be terrified to even so much as stick a toe outside their front door. Most important, Ukraine won't risk losing French support for carrying out an unsanctioned operation within their territory. That's why this has to happen in Monaco."

Max and Petro nodded. That was all the clarification they needed.

Staelin, however, had a question. "I've been wondering something," he said. "Why not just wait until Tsybulsky comes back to his boat from the casino and take him out, along with his whole detail? We'd have the element of surprise. We could do it right there at the dock, hose down any blood, and then drive the boat and the bodies out into the Med and sink them."

"We might have the element of surprise," Harvath replied, "but we'd also have an audience. That boat draws too much attention. We're going to have to wait until it leaves the harbor in Monaco."

"And you're convinced there's no way we can smuggle some sort of bomb on board?"

"If we'd had more time, maybe. But we don't. There's going to be ex-Spetsnaz manning that boat from now until it leaves Monaco for the return trip to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. Any element of surprise we do have would be blown if we got caught trying to plant a bomb."

Staelin was a thinker. That was definitely to his credit. One of his repeated truisms was that the mind was like a parachute: it had to be open to work.

His impulse to continually probe and brainstorm for the best ways to accomplish an assignment made him one of the strongest contributors to the team. Harvath always had time for his ideas.

And he was right: Planting a bomb—had they the time to pull it off—would have been an excellent way to take care of Tsybulsky. They could have even thrown the Ukrainians a bone and given them the credit without having even been on scene. Unfortunately, that wasn't what the universe had handed them. "Easy" didn't appear anywhere on tonight's list of mission options. As team leader, Harvath ultimately had final say in how and what would be done.

To that end, there was one element to the assignment that only he knew about. He had not shared it with S?lvi or anyone else. Even Nicholas wasn't aware of it.

Regardless of what Inessa decided, the CIA had authorized Harvath to assist the Ukrainian commandos in taking out Tsybulsky. Langley wanted the oligarch gone just as much as Kyiv did and this kind of opportunity was too good to pass up. The ultimate call was his, but the Agency had made it crystal clear where they stood on the matter.

There were multiple pieces to synchronize between the Inessa op in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and Tsybulsky in Monte Carlo—cars, boats, lookouts, et cetera, but so far so good. Things were coming together.

Harvath wanted to give the commandos some time to finish checking their gear and told them he'd be back with the rest of the team in about forty-five minutes for a final mission briefing.

The only person who wouldn't be at the meeting would be Barton. After picking up their boat in Nice, he would be piloting it to a small harbor just north of Eze and waiting there for the commandos. He already knew his instructions.

After making sure the commandos had everything they needed, Harvath, Nicholas, and the dogs returned to the Range Rover for the short drive back to the villa.

"How are you feeling about everything?" Nicholas asked as Harvath started the engine and put the SUV into gear.

"As good as can be expected," he replied.

"Good," the little man said. Then, after a long pause, apropos of nothing, stated, "This is going to be my last assignment."

Harvath looked at him in surprise. "You're quitting?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Not quitting. Just not doing fieldwork anymore. Putting aside my physical condition, and the fact that the dogs are getting older, it's a younger man's game."

"Speak for yourself," Harvath joked.

The little man smiled. "People with PD don't have the longest of life expectancies. I've got Nina and the baby now. I want to make the most of whatever I've got left. FaceTimes from hotel rooms and safehouses halfway around the world aren't real life. They just don't cut it."

Harvath understood where he was coming from. In fact, he had a lot of respect for his friend's decision. "It won't be the same without you."

"Yes, it will. You won't even notice that I'm gone. I'll still be the voice in your ear."

"Do the powers that be know about your decision?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Not yet. I plan on letting them know when we get back. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Over the summer, when you had burned through all your vacation and sick days so you could stay in Olso with S?lvi, I thought that might be it. But when they threatened to pink-slip you if you didn't come back, you actually started packing your bags. I've got to tell you, I was surprised."

"Why?"

"Beside the fact that you outkicked your coverage in landing a woman like her?"

"Yeah," Harvath replied with a grin, "beside that."

"You've got the two things people would kill for—a mountain of money and excellent health. Yet for some reason, you'd rather keep throwing yourself in front of bullets and oncoming trains than enjoy yourself."

"Maybe that's how I enjoy myself."

"If it is," Nicholas replied, "it's because you don't know any better."

Harvath pretended to check his watch. "Is this session only fifty minutes, Doctor, or do I get the whole hour?"

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the summer. You and S?lvi even got to have Marco come visit. That must have been terrific."

Having his deceased wife's son—the little boy that he loved like his own—stay with them had been beyond terrific. What's more, S?lvi had been wonderful about it, including having the grandparents along. She was a natural with Marco. There were times when it was just the three of them at the cottage on the fjord that he felt life couldn't serve up anything more perfect.

"It was a good summer," Harvath admitted.

"Bullshit," Nicholas replied, a smile on his face. "It was a great summer. Every time I spoke with you, I could hear it in your voice."

"That's because you always called after five o'clock."

"I always know I'm over the right target with you when the jokes start flying. Your sense of humor is your escape hatch."

"Damn it," said Harvath, as they pulled up to the villa. "We're back already. Well, good talk. Let's not do this again soon."

"Everybody's replaceable, Scot. Keep that in mind. Even you. You don't have to stop what you're doing, but you can change how you do it. They can't force you to be in D.C. If you want to be with S?lvi, go be with S?lvi. You've earned the right to dictate your own terms."

"Thanks, Doc."

Nicholas shook his head as he opened his door. Harvath was never going to change. "Just think about what I said. Okay?"