Near Dark (Scot Harvath #20) - Brad Thor Page 0,64
freezing water sent a jolt through his body. It was like consuming a couple of espressos back-to-back. He felt energized, his mind sharpened.
Stepping out of the shower, he toweled off and shaved at the sink. When he was done, he polished off his coffee, brushed his teeth, and slowly got dressed.
Despite the jolt from the caffeine, as well as the cold water, he was dragging his feet. The meeting he faced wasn’t going to be easy.
He had no clue whether Proctor and Jasinski had heard about Carl’s death. He suspected, though, that they hadn’t. The Norwegians had been keeping it quiet while they continued their investigation.
That meant he was going to have to read them in on all of it, including Carl’s torture and the killer’s search for information via all his devices and the NIS database. But as bad as that was going to be, it wasn’t even the worst of it.
He had not seen Proctor, nor Jasinski since his torturous personal nightmare had begun. His wife, along with his colleague and mentor had all been murdered. The Russians had then dragged him back to Russia to interrogate and kill him.
They would begin by sharing their condolences, because that was what good, decent people did. Then, they would do the next thing good, decent people did—they would ask him how he was doing.
That was still the part he found the most painful. Not because it was offensive or overly intrusive, but because it asked him to look inward, to examine how he was feeling. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to do it.
Picking up his pace, he packed his bag and ignored the impulse to make a second coffee to go. He needed to get out of the building. He was starting to think twice about having poured that bourbon down the sink. He knew if he got anywhere near the coffeemaker, he was going to open the minifridge. And if that happened, he wouldn’t be having just one.
He needed to keep himself together—compartmentalize. That used to be something he was good at. Really good.
He could put everything in an iron box, lock it shut, and hide it away in the furthest corners of his mind. It was he how he survived. It was what made him such an exceptional hunter of men—an apex predator. If he were to lose that ability, none of his other skills would matter. Like a sick animal on the edge of the herd, he’d be as good as dead. The lions would come for him first. He refused to let that happen.
Grabbing his bag, he pushed down his pain and headed out to meet Williams.
CHAPTER 24
Williams walked Harvath into the Base Commander’s office, showed him where the secure conference room was, and asked him if he needed anything. Harvath thanked him and said that he was fine.
In addition to pens and pads of paper placed neatly upon leather blotters in front of each chair around the table, there were bottles of water, a large carafe of coffee, cream, sugar, mugs, and a tray of fresh fruit, cheese, and pastries. Colonel Mitchell was a thorough professional.
He was also a smart operator. It wasn’t every day the Supreme Allied Commander of Europe showed up and needed to borrow your conference room for a private meeting put together by the Secretary of Defense. This was his opportunity to shine—and that was exactly what he was trying to do.
“All good?” Mitchell asked, sticking his head in.
Harvath flashed him the thumbs-up. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
“I have my AV and IT people standing by if you need any help. The Wi-Fi password for the day is on the whiteboard.”
“This is going to be pretty low-tech. In fact, it’s going to be no tech.”
The Base Commander shook his head. “A military meeting without a PowerPoint? I think that’s a sign of the Apocalypse.”
Harvath smiled. “PowerPoints are nothing more than silent screams for promotion.”
“You’re not interested in being promoted?”
“I’m unpromotable. Unless there’s an opening on a pirate ship somewhere, I’m going to have this job for as long I can hold on to it.”
Mitchell smiled back. “Bottle of rum. A dead man’s chest. If there’s anything you need, just let me or Williams know. We’ll get you squared away.”
“Good copy,” Harvath replied.
As the colonel disappeared into the hallway, Harvath checked his watch. Proctor and Jasinski would be arriving at any moment. Reaching for the coffee, he filled a mug and then selected a chair near the middle of