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“But you’re not here to talk about what keeps me up at night,” said the President. “First, I want to thank you for what you did. I understand there were a few others who helped you,” he said as he peered down at his notes. “A Ms. Sloane Ashby and Messrs. Chase Palmer and Matthew Sanchez. Please also extend my thanks to them.”
Carlton assured the President that it would be done.
“Excellent,” he replied. “Now, on to business.” Looking first at Ryan, then Wise and finally McGee, he said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on at CIA, but it’s going to stop now. It needs all of the deadwood cleared out and a brand-new culture instilled. It’s filled with patriotic men and women who would go to the ends of the earth for this country if the bureaucrats gumming up the system would just get out of their way and let them do it.
“This whole Phil Durkin situation never should have happened. I have already asked the DCI for his resignation.”
Ryan and McGee were shocked.
“Who’s going to replace him?” McGee asked.
“You are,” said the President. “Both of you.”
“Codirectors?” replied Ryan.
“Unless you think one person can handle turning that agency around in the next twelve months.”
The Old Man smiled.
“I take it you approve?” said the President.
“Yes, sir,” replied Carlton. “In fact, if I may say so, it should have been done a long time ago.”
“It’s being done now.” Turning to Wise, the President asked, “Do you have any desire to come out of retirement and serve your country again?”
“If my country needs me, I’m happy to come out of retirement.”
“I think Ryan and McGee are going to have their hands full. They’re going to need someone they can trust to help weigh who stays, who goes, what gets saved, what gets cut, et cetera. I can’t promise you it will be glamorous, but I can promise that you’ll have the appreciation of a grateful nation.”
Wise nodded. “Thank you, sir. It would be my honor.”
“Good. I have already spoken with His Majesty in Jordan. He, of course, feigned outrage that his intelligence service was blackmailing the CIA with an active terrorist plot in order to extract information about Durkin’s political destabilization team. He assured me that the bombers would be apprehended immediately and that any and all information they have on the plot will be shared with us straightaway. Ryan, I’d like you to review it and brief General Johnson, who will in turn brief me.”
“Yes, sir,” Ryan replied.
“What else?” the President asked as he flipped through his notes. “I’ve asked the attorney general to give me recommendations as to how Sal Sabatini and this Samuel character ought to be handled. I have to tell you that I’m less worried at this point about the legal process than I am at the prospect that there could be others like them ru
“Yes, sir,” said Wise.
“Speaking of Durkin’s black programs, I understand the last member of the destabilization team, a Tara Fleming, has been placed in FBI custody and is being debriefed. I expect to meet with the FBI director soon to discuss what, if anything, he believes should be done with her.
“Which brings me finally to Mr. Monroe Lewis of the Federal Reserve. The scandals be damned—he’s going to stand trial for what he did. His security chief is going to be charged as an accessory as well. I think that does it,” he said, glancing once more at his notes. “Am I missing anything?”
Carlton raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll get to your request in a moment,” the President replied. Focusing on the others, he said, “I want to thank you again for what you did. It took tremendous courage. It’s that kind of bravery and sacrifice that is going to bring this nation back to prominence. Remember that when things get tough up on the seventh floor at Langley, because they will get tough.”
“We will, sir,” said McGee as he stood and shook the President’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Ryan and Wise joined him, and after they both shook the President’s hand and said goodbye, they exited the Oval Office along with Bob McGee. Harvath and the Old Man sat facing the Director of National Intelligence and the President.
The President looked at Carlton and said, “General Johnson debriefed me on what happened in Somalia and shared your request to pin the firefight and the casualties on Durkin. I’m going to grant the request. Run everything through the general’s office, and as long as it all has his approval, I’m okay with it. Technically, though, this conversation never happened. Understood?”
“Understood,” the Old Man replied, pleased that he’d be able to put the Sie
“I also understand that your firm lost its DoD contract and since that time has been struggling a bit.”
“I wouldn’t say we’ve been—”
“That’s correct, sir,” Harvath replied, cutting off his boss and answering the President’s question.
“I also understand, Mr. Harvath, that you worked for a prior president and helped chalk up some big wins. How come the next administration didn’t hold you over?”
“They had a different worldview, sir.”
The President thought about that for a moment. “I am very bullish on America’s future; I make no secret about that. But before we return to prosperity and abundance, I believe we are going to face profound darkness and be tested like never before in this nation’s history. When that happens, the United States is going to need its very best and very brightest to push back the darkness and take the fight to any enemy that would see us destroyed, both foreign and domestic.
“I’d like to be able to count on your organization. I want you to be part of that fight. With some of the reorganization that General Johnson and I are pla
Simultaneously, Harvath and Carlton replied, “Yes, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said the President as he rose, signaling that the meeting was over.
As he walked them slowly to the door, he left them with one final thought. “A man who occupied this office years ago once said that freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children’s children what it was once like in the United States when men were free.”
He then shook their hands and said, “I’m glad to know that you’ll both be with me in this fight.”
EPILOGUE
CAPE COD
MASSACHUSETTS
“I promise you,” said Harvath. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him. Trust me.”
“Says the guy who lied to me about not being able to swim.”
Harvath smiled and pulled her close. Her skin felt warm and smooth against him, her body perfectly fitting with his. He kissed her neck, just below her ear, and then gave her a playful bite. She squealed and tried to get away, but couldn’t. He was holding on just tight enough to make it impossible.
They had been at the beach for a week and Harvath couldn’t remember ever being this happy. It had been a long time for Lara Cordero as well.
Harvath and Marco had been inseparable. They had walked the beach together, picking up buckets full of rocks and shells along with piles of sticks and huge pieces of driftwood. The little boy laughed when Harvath would pretend the pieces were too heavy and struggled to pick them up. They built sand castles with enormous moats, went for ice cream at least once a day, and rode bikes everywhere.