Foreign Influence

His rounds tore good pieces out of the counter, but he spent his magazine quickly and had to roll back to his cover and reload. By the time he did, the shooter was up and firing again. He was firing at Harvath’s position, which meant he wasn’t targeting the children. That was good. The man, though, had also switched to three-round bursts, which meant he was not only being much more careful, but he also knew what he was doing.

The thing that didn’t make any sense, though, was why he hadn’t transitioned to the special armor-piercing ammunition Chase had fabricated and which he had explained to Harvath that all the shooters were carrying.

Harvath waited for another volley and when it subsided, he swung back out and did an entire magazine dump on the counter before ducking back. Through the smoke, he had seen that he had broken through in multiple places. It looked like metal canisters of some sort were stored underneath the counter. Nevertheless, the shooter had to know that Harvath was getting closer. What he didn’t know was that Harvath only had one magazine for the MP7 left and had no idea if it would it be enough.

When the man popped up this time to fire, he managed only two rounds before his magazine was empty and he was forced to drop back down and reload.

Harvath spun back around the entrance and, making sure to control his muzzle rise, focused on one particular area he had been tearing through the counter. He emptied the magazine as his rounds went clean through.

Ducking back behind the entrance, he dropped the MP7 and pulled out his Glock. He had fifteen rounds in the magazine, one in the chamber. It was make-or-break time. He needed to get to those children.

Crouching, he ran to the platform entrance nearest to where they were still paralyzed and crying on the concourse. Taking a deep breath, he counted to three, raised his Glock, and sped out from behind the door.

The shooter was already waiting for him. As Harvath appeared, he locked his sights on him and pulled his trigger.

The explosive round detonated inside the terrorist’s chamber and blew up right in his face, just as Chase had pla

As the man’s scream filled the concourse, Harvath put two rounds into his head and killed him.

EPILOGUE

YEMEN

ONE MONTH LATER

The end of August was not a good time to be in Yemen. In fact, as far as Harvath was concerned, there was never a good time to be in Yemen or anywhere else on the Arabian Peninsula.

He sat at one of the city’s few halfway decent cafés, his chair propped up against the wall, an awning shielding him from the afternoon sun. As he took a sip of his chai, he thought about everything that had happened.

With visible tactical teams in plate armor at Chicago ’s Mille

As their weapons exploded in their faces and civilians scattered, both men were gu

The slaughter at Union Station had been worse than Ogilvie because it had started three minutes before Gretchen Casey got there. Positioned behind the shooter, she took a shot from over seventy yards and killed him instantly with one round through the back of his head. She then secreted her weapon and quietly left the station. While the police in general were given credit for fast action, no single officer or department had yet officially been credited for killing the shooter. A rumor that it had been done by an undercover U.S. marshal on his way to work had gained wide traction in the press.

All of the would-be suicide bombers were apprehended exactly where Sean Chase had said they would be. Neither Harvath nor any of the Athena Team members had seen him again after he had chosen to take the La Salle Street station.

According to Carlton ’s contacts at the CIA, Chase had been tasked with hunting down Aazim Aleem. Based on chatter the Agency had intercepted, Aleem was convinced that his entire network had been compromised and had fled the country for somewhere in the Middle East. Authorities so far had been unable to uncover any evidence of plots or Jarrah-Aleem cells in Los Angeles or New York. Their investigations were ongoing.

Once stabilized, Nikki Rodriguez was transferred stateside and was expected to make a full recovery. Julie Ericsson had been treated for her gunshot wound at Stroger Hospital in Chicago and released. She traveled back to Ft. Bragg with her teammates, Megan Rhodes, Alex Cooper, and Gretchen Casey. Casey had been keeping Harvath up to date on their progress and in her last e-mail informed him that, upon reflection, Rodriguez was convinced that he had been looking at her ass in Amsterdam. She wanted him to call her to discuss the matter further. In other words, they all sent their best wishes and looked forward to seeing him again soon.

Josh Levy, the owner of Surety Private Investigations, had been discharged from the hospital after being held overnight for observation and was expected to make a full recovery. Based on a couple of calls from Washington, John Vaughan and Paul Davidson both received commendations and promotions. While Davidson was happy where he was, Vaughan gladly accepted a newly created position with the Chicago Police Department’s Intelligence unit. Davidson recruited the Pakistani mechanic, Javed Miraj, into his network and was using him to help build a case against the three stooges at the Crescent Garage.

Alison Taylor had begun making progress, and her family couldn’t have been happier. Mr. Taylor had paid Vaughan the balance of his monies owed and realized that with all of the federal charges against Mohammed Nasiri, Alison would probably never get her day in court. Even so, knowing that she was getting better and that Nasiri would never walk free was justice enough for him.

In Switzerland, Adda Sterk had been remanded to a DOD black site for further interrogation, and Michael Lee was given immunity from prosecution, along with a small payment from the Carlton Group to guarantee his silence. He was reunited with his dog and also tracked down Sterk’s contact, who had accepted the two decoy dogs that supposedly belonged to Nicholas. The Old Man had made it known to Harvath that he wanted the settlement money to Michael Lee to be reimbursed to the Carlton Group by the Troll, in person. Harvath had no idea where he was, but he assumed that he and Padre Peio had returned to the Basque country.

After Chicago, Harvath had intended to return to Virginia, but instead he had gone to Maine. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy telling Tracy things were over. She was a beautiful woman and he loved her very much, more than he had ever loved anyone else. He wanted a family, though. He had come to the conclusion that he wanted that more than anything else, even more than his career. He had thought he could have both with her. He believed that at one point it had been possible, but not the way things were now.

They drank a lot and stayed in bed together for three entire days. When the Old Man called and Harvath told her he had to go, she told him she loved him and that she hoped he would keep in touch with her. She also told him that she understood and that he was doing the right thing.

As Harvath left, he consoled himself with the knowledge that if a great relationship had once been possible with Tracy, it could be possible with somebody else. Maybe even Riley, the doctor Carlton had sent to him in Geneva. For his part, though, the Old Man wasn’t forthcoming with any further information about her. That was okay. When he was done in Yemen, he was seriously considering going to Paris to see if he could find her on his own.