to going to bed with a lot more alcohol in his system and it took forever to fall asleep. But once he did, he couldn’t stay asleep—at least not for long.
He tossed and turned until the sun began to rise and then gave up. Dressing in the workout gear from his wardrobe, he decided to go for a run.
Unlike Key West, the morning air was cool and crisp. He wanted to clear the cobwebs and burn off any residual booze in his system.
He pushed himself hard—harder than most mornings. By the time he was done with his run and back at the cabin, he was drenched with sweat. He had been out longer than he had planned and so took a quick shower, shaved, and found something to wear.
At seven a.m., sharp, he opened the door to Hickory Lodge and strode into the restaurant. He was completely unprepared for who he saw sitting with Nicholas.
Judging by the plates of half-eaten food and half-empty coffee mugs, the duo had been there for a while. He could only imagine what they had been talking about, though in all honesty, he had a pretty good idea.
The man sitting across from Nicholas was an accomplished warrior and intelligence operative. He had been based in Berlin during the Cold War, tasked with recruiting foreign intelligence assets. He not only spoke Russian, he had also killed a lot of them.
After the Wall had fallen, he had left U.S. Army Intelligence and gone to work for the FBI, rising to Deputy Director. Later in life, the President had tapped him to run a covert program parked at the Department of Homeland Security called the Office of International Investigative Assistance or OIIA for short. It was as head of OIIA that he had been Harvath’s boss.
Their relationship, though, went back much further. Gary Lawlor had been best friends with Harvath’s dad, Michael. He had stepped in when Michael had been killed and had become a de facto father to him, making sure he and his mother never wanted for anything. He had also pushed Harvath to become the absolute best in whatever he did. They hadn’t seen each other since the funerals for Lara, Lydia, and Reed.
Walking over to him, Scot extended his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
Lawlor stood up, put his arms around him, and pulled him in for a bear hug. He was very fit for a man of his age. “You doing okay?” he asked, quietly enough so no one could hear.
Harvath swallowed hard and nodded. It was the only response he was capable of giving. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to verbalize what he was really feeling. He was proud and didn’t want to come apart in the middle of such a public place.
Lawlor held him there for an extra moment. He could practically feel the weight of all the sorrow hanging from Harvath’s body, like heavy, iron chains, crushing him. It was a feeling he knew all too well. His wife, though long ago, had been taken from him in a similar fashion.
“It gets better,” he promised.
They were the same words he had given him, months ago. Harvath was still waiting for things to “get better.” Once again, all he could muster in response was a nod.
Patting him on the back, Lawlor broke off the hug and pushed him out to arm’s length. “You’re looking a little on the slim side,” he said, studying him. “How about some breakfast?”
“Sure,” Harvath replied, helping himself to a chair. As he sat down, he looked at Nicholas and asked, “You couldn’t have told me?”
“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” the little man responded.
“You and I are going to have a talk later about surprises.”
Nicholas shrugged as Lawlor waved over the server. “Coffee?”
Harvath nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Sure. Eggs, scrambled, crispy bacon, wheat toast, and ice water—lots of it, please.”
The server took the order and once he had left for the kitchen, Lawlor continued catching up, “How’s your mom?”
“She’s good,” he replied. “Nice apartment, great view of the ocean.”
“How often do you get out to see her?”
“Probably not as often as I should.”
When Reed Carlton was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, Harvath had started paying more attention to his mother’s lapses in memory. He eventually grew concerned enough to have her tested. The news wasn’t good. She had dementia.
He knew how fiercely independent she was and had offered to hire someone to come in and check on her. To his surprise, she was interested in a