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H aving kept one eye on his phone, he knew the moment the text from McGee had come in telling him that Nicholas had completed the first phase of the plan.

The Goblins, placed on the metal cage behind the security building, would allow Nicholas to access the estate’s security system, with the drone overhead functioning like a satellite.

It would relay signals to and from Nicholas in his van, which was serving as a mobile command center. So far, so good.

When the next text came, informing him that it was safe to head to the beach, Harvath was ready to move. Taking one last look through his night-vision device, he made his way to shore.

There was a copse of trees at the north end of the narrow strip of sand that acted as a beach. That was where it had been decided Harvath would gear up and change out of his wetsuit.

He moved quietly through the water, cautious not to give himself away in case any security personnel were near. He knew Nicholas was monitoring everything, spoofing cameras and sensors for him, but in his book, you could never be too careful.

It felt good to feel the bottom under his feet and then to be standing on dry land. Reaching the trees, he texted McGee FD —their code for “Feet Dry.”

Drone two inbound. Ninety seconds out , the man texted back.

Scot barely had time to unpack his weapons and peel off his wetsuit, before a drone dropped out of the night sky and hovered, several yards away, above the beach.

Suspended underneath it was a small case. Harvath detached it, stood back, and flashed the drone’s camera the thumbs-up.

He watched as it rose back into the air and disappeared, at which point he returned to the trees, and opened it up.

Among the items inside was a radio, complete with a bone microphone. Powering it up, he inserted the earpiece and conducted a comms check with McGee.

“Reading you five by five,” the man replied.

“Any sign of Hale?” Harvath asked as he continued to get dressed.

“Negative. Probably already turned in.”

“Roger that. Stand by. Almost ready to move.”

Harvath finished tying his boots, gave all of his equipment a final check, and, once he’d attached the monocular to his head mount assembly, let the team know he was good to go.

With Nicholas manipulating the security system, McGee guided Harvath through each step, letting him know where and when it was safe to move.

The trek from the beach up to the main compound was tedious and slow going, but it was working. And as hot, humid, and buggy as it was, Harvath reminded himself that it could have been much worse. The security team could have had dogs.

Picking his way through the trees at the edge of the property, he chose his steps with great care, making sure not to snap any twigs or branches underfoot, as if he were traversing hostile enemy territory.

Though he, as the intruder, wouldn’t have been justified in shooting any of Hale’s people, this was Virginia and they would absolutely be justified in shooting him.

He had no intention of letting that happen.

Up ahead, he could start to pick out the landscape lighting leading to the main house.

Beyond that would be the garage and the apartment used by Hale.

Even though he knew he had to be wary, he found himself eager to increase his pace.

Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to relax.

Nothing good ever came from being in a hurry.

As he drew closer to the house, he could see that most of its lights were out. What illumination was visible was simply interior accent lighting in case anyone had to move around in the middle of the night. By all appearances, the Willis family was asleep.

That was good. The fewer people up, around, and able to raise the alarm if they heard or saw something, the better. Harvath had no idea what was going to happen once he finally reached Hale; he just knew he didn’t want an audience for it.

Arriving at the motor court, he scanned the area. The apartment above the garage was dark.

“You’re all clear,” McGee said over the radio. “Keep it tight and stay sharp. Remember what I told you.”

“Good copy,” Harvath replied. He hadn’t forgotten the man’s ominous warning and wasn’t planning on letting his guard down.

The carriage house had five bays—four were for vehicles and the fifth had a regular pedestrian door cut into it. He didn’t linger. Cutting across the motor court, he made a beeline straight for it.

Silently wrapping his hand around the brass handle, he pressed down. The door gave with a soft click and he slipped inside.

The interior was dark, but his night-vision device gave him a clear view. A narrow hallway led straight to the stairs. Up to Hale’s apartment. There was no one in sight.

Drawing his Taser, he moved through the quiet darkness and opened the door leading into the garage. Inside was a Range Rover, a Land Rover, a Porsche 911, and a Mercedes AMG sedan. All of their fobs hung on a rack.

There was no sign of Hale.

Returning to the hall, he crept up the stairs, slowly applying pressure to each step. The last thing he wanted to do was to announce his presence through a creaky board.

At the top of the landing was the door to the man’s apartment. Harvath gave the knob a try. It was locked. Fuck .

He had a small set of lockpick tools with him, but the job would require both of his hands, meaning he’d have to reholster the Taser.

The alternatives, he supposed, were to either kick the door in and risk giving the man a head start, or to knock softly and whisper Hale’s name— à la the bin Laden raid—and hope the man was dumb enough to pop his head out so Harvath could zap him in the face.

All things considered, preserving the element of surprise offered him the best odds, and so, after securing the Taser, he pulled out his lockpick tools and went to work. In less than minute, he had the door open.

Pulling his Taser back out and setting his tactical light to strobe, he crept into the apartment.

The suitcase in the living room told him McGee’s intel had been right on the money. Moving past it, Harvath headed for the bedroom.

Pausing outside the partially open door, he listened for any sound of Hale. There was no snoring, no rustling of bedclothes, only the droning of a large box fan.

Like many vets who had experienced hearing damage from being exposed to explosions and weapons fire, the man probably suffered from tinnitus, which could be more debilitating at night.

Harvath would have to keep that in mind. If he ended up deciding to kill Hale, he’d make sure he had a suppressor on his weapon, just out of kindness.

Easing into the bedroom, he could see Hale in sweats lying on the bed, the sheets and blankets having been kicked to the floor.

The guy was a monster; much bigger than Harvath had expected.

Based on sheer size alone, before ever getting to his resume, it was obvious why the man might make a compelling head of security.

But to those in the know, security wasn’t about size, it was about smarts. And by not sufficiently scrubbing his trail, Hale had screwed up and led Harvath right to him. Definitely not smart.

Activating the laser sight on his Taser, Harvath took a step forward and found the one board in the entire carriage house that groaned.