Chapter 26
Harvath and Morrell left the few remaining medical supplies scattered around the corpse. A mess, particularly in a situation like this, wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.
What they did clean up, however, were the paper packages the latex gloves had come in, the stainless-steel bowl, and the hand towels—all of which came back inside with them.
Before exiting the roof, they camouflaged one of their portable drones under a stack of roof debris and hid the other in the lobby. Both would function as CCTV cameras.
While Harvath had never been in a firefight where he’d lamented bringing too much ammo, it both looked and felt a bit over the top. The idea wasn’t to slaughter whoever showed up, but rather to take as many prisoners as possible. You couldn’t interrogate dead men.
As they double-checked their weapons, Harvath went over the plan one last time. Then, when there were no questions, they divided into their two-person teams and took up their positions. All they could do now was wait.
Harvath was tempted to circle back to his question about how Morrell had ended up in Bangkok. He figured it couldn’t be worse than his Viagra story.
But before he got the chance, the CIA man said, “You’ve got to be the dumbest person I’ve ever met. You’ve got a hot young wife and, if the rumors are true, you just fell into a shit ton of money. What the hell is wrong with you? You hit the jackpot. Why are you doing this?”
There were about a dozen reasons he could give, the majority of which dealt with patriotism and purpose. He chose the one he thought would resonate most with Morrell.
“I missed the job,” he replied.
“What part? The shitty hours? The shitty conditions? Or the shitty pay?”
Harvath smiled. “The shitty people.”
Morrell chuckled. They were sitting together on the fourth floor, near the stairwell.
“What about you?” Harvath asked, shifting focus. “You said Bangkok’s where they park you when you’re useful, but inconvenient. I get the inconvenient part, but who in their right mind ever labeled you useful?”
The CIA man laughed again. “Even after we pulled out of Iraq and Afghanistan, the Agency was still making omelets. Not as many as before, but enough that they still needed experienced people out there breaking eggs.”
“So that’s why you’re in Thailand? To break eggs?”
The man nodded. “Terrorism, drugs, weapons smuggling, human trafficking… there’s a lot going on in this part of the world. More than enough to keep me busy.”
“And your station chief? What kind of dirt do you have on him that he buries your medical records, and his wife plays matchmaker for you with local intel operatives?”
“John and Emily? Ten years ago, in Burkina Faso, they were operating under non-official cover, posing as a husband-and-wife team.
They zigged when they should have zagged and got jammed up.
I grabbed a couple of Marines from the embassy and—against orders from Langley, as well as the Ambo—pulled them out.
“Bangkok is John’s last ride. He’s retiring after this.
Emily is already ex-Agency. She parachuted out after they got married for real and had their first child.
They thought I’d enjoy it here and John still had a few favors he could call in back at headquarters.
I suspect Langley was more than happy to have me posted all the way on the other side of the world. ”
“If Emily had been a NOC,” said Harvath, “what was the deal with hooking you up with Davi?”
“Bangkok is full of social clubs,” Morrell replied. “They met playing tennis. Emily is no dummy and figured it probably wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Meaning Thai intelligence was trying to recruit her.”
“Exactly. So, she leaned into the relationship and introduced me to Davi at a party.”
“Intending for you to run the same game back on her.”
“Which I did,” the CIA man said, a wistful smile on his face. “With pleasure.”
“Obviously. So, what happened?”
“Professionally speaking? In the end, nothing. Davi didn’t turn Emily and I was unable to turn Davi. But while it lasted, I had the time of my life. She’s an amazing woman.”
“Did you ever consider that, in the end, maybe Davi was trying to turn you?”
Morrell scoffed at the idea. “Have you not seen how pissed she still is at me?”
“Not so pissed that she wouldn’t let you borrow a corpse from a Bangkok morgue,” Harvath replied.
“I know I sound like every other asshole who fell into a honeypot, but we had something. It was special.”
This time it was Harvath’s turn to scoff. “So, you’re not only useful, but you’re also irresistible. Got it. I’ll make sure to write that down.”
Morrell gave him the finger.
Harvath was about to rib his friend again about calling him “Dad,” when Haney, who was monitoring the drone cameras, radioed. “Look alive,” he stated. “We’ve got a visitor up on the roof.”