Thinking of back home, he checked his phone again. Lara still hadn’t texted him back. It was for the best. He didn’t have time to get involved in any additional drama. His time with Decker in the jungle shower had been bad enough.
Decker hadn’t liked being rebuffed, but that was her problem. He had tried to make it clear that he wasn’t interested. She had persisted anyway, sensing that there may have been some sort of opening with him. She had been wrong.
When she had stepped into the shower and had tried to press herself up against him, that’s when he steered her back out and told her in no uncertain terms what the situation was.
He couldn’t have been the first man to say no to her, but watching the Brits continue to drool all over her, he wondered if maybe he was. Not that it mattered to him. He had something much better waiting for him at home — provided he could salvage it.
His fidelity seemed to turn Decker on even more. That, or she saw it as a challenge. In either case, he was glad to not have to ride to Bunia with her and was equally pleased to be away from the hotel and not have to deal with her there.
Nearing the compound, he tried to put Lara, Decker, and everything else out of his mind.
They would only get one look tonight and as their Land Cruiser rolled slowly by, he took in everything — the wall heights, window and door placement, the lighting, security measures, adjacent buildings, as well as all of the nearby businesses.
“I vote no,” Ash stated as they kept on going.
Harvath looked at him. “No to what?”
“No to everything you’re thinking right now.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“The same way I knew yesterday morning that you wouldn’t radio us even if it did go tits up out in the jungle.”
“Technically, you said to call only if it went pear-shaped,” Harvath replied.
“Are you taking the piss now? Is that what this is?”
“No, but that’s a good idea. Pull over.”
“I didn’t say take a piss,” Ash clarified. “I said taking the piss. It means—”
“I know what it means,” said Harvath. “And yes, I’m pulling your chain, but I still want you to pull over. Up there by that bar. Pardon me, by that pub.”
“I know what a bar is, you nonce.”
Harvath smiled. “Just taking the piss again. Don’t worry.”
“Something tells me I’m going to have plenty to worry about soon enough,” Ash replied as he pulled off the road and put the Land Cruiser in park.
From the backseat, Jambo looked out his window at the bar and asked, “Are we going in for a beer?”
“Ash and I are,” said Harvath. “You’re going for a walk.”
CHAPTER 23
With his earbuds in, Jambo had pretended to be face-timing on his iPhone as he strolled the neighborhood and shot video. When they had reviewed it back at the hotel, Harvath and Ash were able to identify several places for static surveillance, plus launching pads if they needed to go dynamic. Harvath had no plans to attempt to breach the compound. However this went down, he wanted it to go down outside.
The next morning, they used Jambo and three of his relatives as cutouts to temporarily secure two second-storey apartments and access to a handful of rooftops ringing the target compound.
Even in a backwater like Congo, cell phone technology would allow Harvath and the team to feed images back to the Bunia Hotel. If Leonce and his son recognized any of the men, Decker would reply with a text.
With that said, there were limits to how clear a picture a camera phone would take. Harvath hadn’t come equipped for a surveillance assignment with long lenses and spotting scopes. They would have to make do with what they had.
Ash and the team had binoculars, but they didn’t have anti-flare lenses, so they were restricted to the apartments and forbidden from roof duty.
The team was operating under the assumption that they were dealing with active or former military personnel. From the little Jambo had been able to ascertain mingling in the market and throughout the neighborhood, the house they were surveilling was known by locals as the “white house.” It wasn’t a reference to the building in Washington, D.C., but rather to this structure’s occupants — all of whom were said to be white men. The team decided they would use the same name.
No one knew who the occupants of the “white house” were. Though sometimes seen on foot, they usually came and went in nondescript SUVs. They all wore sunglasses and had short haircuts. That was the extent of the description people in the neighborhood were able to provide. It was enough for Harvath.
They sat on the “white house” for thirty-two humid hours before the package Harvath had requested from Nicholas arrived. Ash sent Jambo to the airport with bribe money to pick it up and make sure nothing happened to it.
“What is it?” Mick asked as Harvath opened the box and lifted the item out.
“It’s a predator.”
“As in the drone?”
Harvath shook his head. “No. This technology preys on human weakness.”
“What?”
“Give me your cell phone.”
Mick handed it over.
“Now give me your Glock.”
“Why?”
Harvath motioned for him to hand it over, and Mick complied.
Turning the weapon in his hand, Harvath prepared to strike the face of the phone with the butt of the weapon when Mick intervened.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said.
Harvath smiled. “Exactly.” Handing them back, he stated, “That’s what I’m counting on.”
Included in the delivery from the Carlton Group was additional surveillance equipment, which they parceled out among their observation posts, along with tiny, wireless cameras for the rooftops.
Leonce had already identified two of the suspects, but as better imagery came rolling in, Harvath fed the pictures back to the hotel and Leonce grew more emphatic that they were on to the right group of men. Harvath agreed.
They were pros. The men did everything right when they entered or exited the compound. This was not some JV team. Their heads were on swivels and they took their time. Nothing was rushed. Everything was smooth and by the book.
In addition to sending the pictures back to the hotel, Harvath had also been funneling all of the camera phone imagery back to his office in Virginia. So far, there hadn’t been any hits via facial recognition.
That didn’t necessarily mean anything. The men wore sunglasses and baseball caps. With such poor resolution, it was tough to tag the appropriate markers. Now that the new cameras had arrived, Harvath was confident they’d know who the men were soon enough.
Back at the Carlton Group offices, Nicholas had been tracing the calls from their cell phones, the majority of which were going to South Africa. There was one phone inside the house, though, that Nicholas couldn’t crack or trace. It was heavily encrypted and not like anything he had ever seen before.
He warned Harvath about it and told him that if he did end up hitting the house, to make sure he bagged all of the phones. Nicholas couldn’t tell him what specifically to look for because he didn’t know himself.
“Just bring me all the phones, and I’ll sort it out,” is what he had said.
Harvath, though, hadn’t changed his mind. He still had no intention of taking the house down. There was no telling how many men were inside, how well armed they were, and what kind of resources they could muster if they got into a firefight. The last thing Harvath and his team needed were Armored Personnel Carriers full of UN troops rolling down the street and banging away at them.