Rising Tiger: A Thriller (27)

In a perfect world, Harvath would have had his own trusted source in Jaipur—someone he knew, who was well connected and plugged into everything.

But this wasn’t a perfect world. Jaipur was completely uncharted territory for him and was going to be extremely difficult to navigate. Anything that might give him the edge was worth grabbing ahold of.

“I’ll take the FSN/I,” he said.

“Roger that,” Lawlor replied. “I’ll contact the embassy in Delhi and get everything in motion. By the time the helo arrives to take you to Farkhor, you’ll have, at the very least, a bio and a photo. In the meantime, based on the information we have, Nicholas is going to brief you on Ritter’s movements in Jaipur.”



* * *



As always, Lawlor was a man of his word. Ten minutes before the Black Hawk touched down on the embassy’s soccer field, Harvath not only had his new cell phone, passport, documents, and cash from Leahy, but he also had a full dossier on the FSN/I who would be picking him up in Jaipur. And from the looks of it, Vijay Chabra was exactly the person Harvath needed.





CHAPTER 16


NORTHERN VIRGINIA

Nicholas had pulled an all-nighter getting ready for the Kabul op. When it was over and Harvath had been briefed on his next mission, he collected his gear, gave his two enormous, white Caucasian Ovcharkas the command to walk with him, and headed for the Carlton Group’s private elevator that delivered him to the underground parking level.

Similar to a Tesla, his highly customized black Mercedes Sprinter van was covered with sensors and tiny cameras. If anyone had come near it, that person would have been recorded and an alert would have been sent to his phone.

Even though he hadn’t received such an alert, he still gave Argos the command to sniff the van for explosives. One could never be too careful. Nicholas had made a lot of enemies over his lifetime.

When the dog was done, he rejoined his master, as well as Draco, who had never left the little man’s side.

Climbing into the van together, Nicholas slid into the driver’s seat and drove out of the garage. The ride home, without traffic, was only twenty minutes.

In his previous life, before going legitimate, he had amassed a staggering amount of money. When it came time to purchase a house in the United States, price wasn’t a problem. The challenge was in finding the perfect property.

Nicholas had very specific tastes. He wanted something that reminded him of Europe. Something solid. Something that felt like it had been around forever, but had all the modern conveniences. Most important of all, it had to be safe.

On forty extremely private, wooded acres he found the perfect place. It had been built just a decade earlier by a furniture magnate. The thirteenth-century, Scottish-inspired fortress was constructed from more than four thousand tons of local, hand-hewn stone. It boasted five bedrooms, a chapel, a pool, a walled garden, an elevator, and a fourth-floor observation deck with an outdoor fireplace and one of the most stunning views he had ever seen.

The entire property was like something out of a fairy tale. And after the hardships he had endured, Nicholas deserved a happy ending.

More important, he wanted to give Nina the fairy tale. All of it. She had made him so incredibly happy. And soon she was going to give birth to their baby.

At first, he had been beside himself with worry, concerned that the child might suffer from his rare genetic disorder of primordial dwarfism. Testing, however, had put his mind at ease. Everything was on track for them to have a beautiful, healthy baby.

Nicholas looked forward to filling the house with love, warmth, and the sound of laughter.

Having been abandoned as a child in Soviet Georgia and raised in a brothel near the Black Sea, he had always longed for a real family of his own. Now that it was coming true, he often felt like he was living in a dream. In fact, that was what he had named his home—Castle Mechta, from the Russian word for “dream.”

Parking in his large, impeccably clean garage, he waited for the overhead door to close before climbing out of the van with the dogs.

Inside the house, he turned off the rest of the alarms and headed for the kitchen. He loved to cook and tonight he was making a very special meal.

Nina, unfortunately, was terribly allergic to shellfish. But because he loved her so madly, he had sworn it off as well. No easy task for a gourmand who had eaten himself into a food coma on countless occasions via towers of crab, shrimp, and oysters that were taller than he was.

Tonight, however, Nina wasn’t home. She had gone away for a few days to see friends—one of her last trips before the baby was due.

Nicholas had the entire house to himself and was going to prepare Lobster Thermidor with pommes soufflé on the side and a 2002 bottle of Dom Pérignon.

After getting out one of his Riedel Dom Pérignon glasses, he retrieved the champagne and gently uncorked it. The sound, he had been taught, should never be louder than a lover’s sigh. He thought people who popped their corks or sabered the tops off of their bottles were savages.

Pouring a glass, he opened the music app on his tablet and scrolled through his many playlists. The only thing more diverse than his taste in food was his taste in music. He and Harvath had bonded over their shared love of funk—and that was what they often listened to when he came over. That, or classic rock. Tonight, however, he was in the mood for something different.