Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(22)

After the Wall had fallen, he had left U.S. Army Intelligence and gone to work for the FBI, rising to Deputy Director. Later in life, the President had tapped him to run a covert program parked at the Department of Homeland Security called the Office of International Investigative Assistance or OIIA for short. It was as head of OIIA that he had been Harvath’s boss.

Their relationship, though, went back much further. Gary Lawlor had been best friends with Harvath’s dad, Michael. He had stepped in when Michael had been killed and had become a de facto father to him, making sure he and his mother never wanted for anything. He had also pushed Harvath to become the absolute best in whatever he did. They hadn’t seen each other since the funerals for Lara, Lydia, and Reed.

Walking over to him, Scot extended his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

Lawlor stood up, put his arms around him, and pulled him in for a bear hug. He was very fit for a man of his age. “You doing okay?” he asked, quietly enough so no one could hear.

Harvath swallowed hard and nodded. It was the only response he was capable of giving. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to verbalize what he was really feeling. He was proud and didn’t want to come apart in the middle of such a public place.

Lawlor held him there for an extra moment. He could practically feel the weight of all the sorrow hanging from Harvath’s body, like heavy, iron chains, crushing him. It was a feeling he knew all too well. His wife, though long ago, had been taken from him in a similar fashion.

“It gets better,” he promised.

They were the same words he had given him, months ago. Harvath was still waiting for things to “get better.” Once again, all he could muster in response was a nod.

Patting him on the back, Lawlor broke off the hug and pushed him out to arm’s length. “You’re looking a little on the slim side,” he said, studying him. “How about some breakfast?”

“Sure,” Harvath replied, helping himself to a chair. As he sat down, he looked at Nicholas and asked, “You couldn’t have told me?”

“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” the little man responded.

“You and I are going to have a talk later about surprises.”

Nicholas shrugged as Lawlor waved over the server. “Coffee?”

Harvath nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Sure. Eggs, scrambled, crispy bacon, wheat toast, and ice water—lots of it, please.”

The server took the order and once he had left for the kitchen, Lawlor continued catching up, “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good,” he replied. “Nice apartment, great view of the ocean.”

“How often do you get out to see her?”

“Probably not as often as I should.”

When Reed Carlton was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, Harvath had started paying more attention to his mother’s lapses in memory. He eventually grew concerned enough to have her tested. The news wasn’t good. She had dementia.

He knew how fiercely independent she was and had offered to hire someone to come in and check on her. To his surprise, she was interested in a local senior living development on Coronado Island. Several of her friends were there and loved it. She could still be independent, but as she needed more care, it could be added on.

While Scot was sorry to see her sell the home he had grown up in, he knew it was time. The best part of the move, though, was how much happier she was in her new place. “All’s well that ends well,” Lara had said. And she had been right. He just wished that they could have gotten to know each other better before Lara had been taken from him.

“I’m sure she understands,” said Gary.

Harvath was going to respond, but stopped as the server returned with a pot of hot coffee and filled all of their mugs.

By the time the man had left the table, Nicholas had changed the subject.

“I’ve got some good news,” he stated. “Gary has done a little digging into what happened down in Key West and—”

“Hold on,” Harvath interrupted. “Gary’s been read into what happened down in Key West?”

“Yes he has. And before you push back, know this. You made your position crystal clear. You didn’t want to run this business. That was fine while Lydia was here, because she was willing to do it. But when she was killed, we had to make new plans. You were MIA, so we did it without you. Gary’s the best person for the job and you know it.”

He did know it, and he couldn’t argue.

“Scot, this has all been moving fast,” said Lawlor. “Nicholas and I have been huddled with Bob McGee since the funerals. Everyone wanted to give you space—including me. But you have to understand, that’s over. The fight’s here and the fight’s now. I said yes to this job because I know that I’m needed and, frankly, because I wanted to work with you again. But all that matters at this point is if you want to work with me. And, of course, if you’re still in the fight.”

Part of Harvath wanted to stand up, walk out, and go back to drinking in Key West, but he couldn’t do that. Lawlor had called him out and no Tier One operator, no American war fighter was ever out of the fight. As long as the country needed them, they would keep going no matter what toll it took.

Even so, Harvath was careful not to knee-jerk himself into a commitment. As much as he loved the Old Man, Carlton had been a master manipulator and had taught him a lot about his gut and people who tried to appeal to him through it.