Chapter 67
Back at the safe house, after putting away the supplies, Harvath studied the maps with Morrell and Jira. If the schools were no longer targets, the question became what in Pattani could still deliver the same effect of shock, humiliation, and panic?
Jira was pointing with the tip of a wax pencil. “The provincial offices are here,” he said. “District administration here. Police and military buildings. And these commercial blocks.”
He then highlighted waterfront roads, adding, “If your bomber wants to get out quickly, he has multiple ways to move. The fastest would be via a prearranged boat in one of the local fishing villages. With that said, in three hours he could be at the Thai/Malay overland border, or he could cut across to the west coast and catch a ferry to Langkawi on the Malaysian archipelago.”
“But he’d have to pass through Thai border control and customs before entering Malaysian territory,” said Morrell. “Correct?”
Jira nodded. “That is correct. Not to mention any number of checkpoints along the way.”
“What if he didn’t leave Thailand and simply headed back north?” Harvath asked.
“If he didn’t want to stand out, you’re talking a big city like Phuket, which is eight hours by car, or all the way back to Bangkok, which takes fourteen. But again, there are the checkpoints to worry about.”
Morrell studied the Pattani City map. “What about via train? Does Pattani have a train station?”
“Yes, but it is technically not in Pattani. It is in Khok Pho, about thirty kilometers away. And once he’s on a train, assuming he can sneak past authorities at the station, he can’t hide. Not completely. If the Thai military decide to stop and search it, he runs a great risk of being caught.”
“Which is why airports are also probably off the table.”
“I think we should assume that if the Chinese have found a way to smuggle him down here, they’ll have a way to smuggle him out,” said Harvath. “The key is to get to him before he can carry out his next attack.”
Over the next several hours, they went through the map of Pattani block by block. And with each block, Harvath only grew to better understand why the Chinese had chosen it. There was simply no end of places in which they could cause damage.
Some felt important locally, but not nationally. Others made sense tactically, but not symbolically. And some seemed guaranteed to light up Bangkok the instant they were hit.
The problem with every single target was that they were looking at them hypothetically. Without some sort of an idea of what Koebler was planning, he would continue to be one step ahead and they would continue chasing their tails.
Harvath stepped away from the maps, walked over to the window, and looked out into the compound.
The old VW up on blocks tugged at something from his childhood—Southern California beach towns, faded paint, and aging, sunburned hippies. The memory gave way to the stranger truth that more than a few SEALs he knew had loved refurbishing and driving them around simply for the joke of it.
Nostalgia, however, wasn’t going to help him find Koebler.
Pulling his attention back, he returned to the business at hand.
By late afternoon, the heat had turned the safe house into even more of an oven. One of Jira’s men rolled a portable fan into the room and plugged it in near the maps, but it did little to bring the temperature down.
No one was doing much talking at this point. They had spent the better part of the day pulling Pattani apart on paper and putting it back together again, only to wind up where they had started—with too many possibilities and not enough certainty.
Then, the encrypted communications app on Harvath’s phone rang. It was Tevy.
Harvath activated the call and put him on speaker. “What do you have?”
“My source heard enough to pass something, but it’s not much,” the Cambodian warned.
“Give it to me.”
“He said bags are still the delivery mechanism.”
Harvath felt the room sharpen around him. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” Tevy replied. “He said responders will be dealt with in the parking lot.”
Morrell was already moving toward the maps.
“What parking lot?” Harvath asked. “What’s the target?”
“He doesn’t know. All he could tell me was that the attack was imminent.”
“How imminent?”
“Before nightfall,” Tevy replied.
Harvath checked his watch. They didn’t have much time. “Stay on your source. It’s critical. We need anything he can give us.”
When he disconnected the call and looked up, everyone in the room was watching him.
Taking Jira’s wax pencil, he joined Morrell at the detailed map of Pattani City.
“Bags still in play,” he said. “And a parking lot of some sort. Big enough for first responders to assemble in. What are we looking at?”
“Let’s assume schools are out,” said Morrell.
“Agreed.”
“If they’re using bags and want responders converging in a parking lot,” said Haney, “it’s got to be a transport hub of some sort.”
Harvath nodded and circled three locations on the map. They weren’t perfect, but they were all plausible, especially considering that the first-choice targets had been taken off the board.
“Ashby and Palmer,” he said, “I want you at the Pattani railway station. Haney and Staelin, the airport. Morrell and I will take the bus station. Keep your heads on swivels and report anything unusual. I don’t care if someone sets a bag down and only walks two feet away—call it in.
And remember, if cornered, these guys may decide to detonate rather than be taken alive, so keep your distance. Is that understood?”
Once everyone confirmed, they began gearing up. Outside, Jira and his men fired up the vehicles.
As soon as they had their gear, they hurried outside and climbed into the same vehicles they had ridden in from the airport.
Hopping into Jira’s SUV, Harvath and Morrell double-checked their weapons and told him to hit it.
All they had to do now was get there first.