Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(78)
Which was why, when Nicholas had reached out, they had agreed to go along with Scot’s request. Even with their daughter gone, Scot was still part of their family. They not only loved him, they trusted him.
They had put their lives in his hands and Harvath had treated that responsibility with the utmost seriousness. He knew Preisler, Johnson, and Kost would fight to the death to keep them safe. That was why he had asked Nicholas to send them. Marco was an obvious choice.
The men were also smart as hell. If something was afoot, not only would they pick it up quickly, but they’d put a knife in it so fast, lightning would be envious.
And that had been Harvath’s concern at Camp David—that an assassin might use a family member to flush him out. He had worried that whoever had killed Carl would either try to get to Marco, as well as Lara’s parents, or maybe even his own mother out in California.
Already, a team had moved her out of her senior community and over to Naval Base Coronado.
With such an alleged bounty in play, even a U.S. Navy base might not be perfectly safe, but Sloane Ashby and Chase Palmer, the two operatives Harvath had asked to watch over his mom, liked their odds. So too did the horde of U.S. Navy SEALs who had taken up residence around Mrs. Harvath. She was part of their family and there was no way they were going to let anything happen to her.
The remaining core of Harvath’s team—Haney and Staelin, along with former Force Recon Marine Matt Morrison, ex–Green Beret Jack Gage, and ex-SEAL Tim Barton—stood ready as a Quick Reaction Force, prepared to deploy from Joint Base Andrews to anywhere in the world he might need them.
In the meantime, back in Boston, the Ghost continued to study Lara’s neighborhood, developing a feel for its residents and rhythms.
In the apartment, Preisler and Johnson tried to stay in the background, out of the family’s hair—something easier said than done.
Not only was it uncomfortable having two intense, flinty, well-armed men constantly nearby, but then there were the logistics. Lara’s apartment was on the second floor and her parents lived above. The apartment on the ground floor was for rent, but currently vacant. The running up and down stairs, especially by Lara’s mother, was an ongoing problem. Every time she went to fetch something, one of the men needed to be with her. Finally, it was Preisler who made a command decision. He was tired of all the back-and-forth.
Grabbing three empty laundry baskets, he accompanied Lara’s mother upstairs, and told her to pack. Spices, books, clothes—he didn’t care. She could fill the baskets with whatever she wanted. They just couldn’t keep running up and down stairs. It was too dangerous. The only way Preisler and Johnson could really protect them was if they all stayed together.
Once Lara’s mother had complied, Preisler took a break while Johnson accompanied Lara’s father to gather three baskets’ worth of stuff. In typical “guy” fashion, the man did it all in one basket. He only wanted his books, his “Brazilian rum” aka Cacha?a, and a few changes of clothes.
With the crazy upstairs-downstairs portion of their program complete, they could refocus on simply being a heavily guarded family and trying to create some semblance of everyday, little-boy-life for Marco.
That meant that Marco needed to be allowed outside to run around and do all the crazy things a precocious four-year-old did. And the best place for a precocious four-year-old to be a precocious four-year-old was the playground down the street.
Protecting a little boy—especially when he was the primary—was a weird gig for Preisler and Johnson. Their previous protection details had been for diplomats in war zones, or in highly dangerous, cartel-controlled areas like Mexico, Central or South America. Guarding the life of a preschooler in Boston was a bit surreal.
Nevertheless, they were professionals and took it every bit as seriously as they did any of their previous assignments. There was no way they were going to let anything happen to Marco. The hardest part about the assignment, though, was that they weren’t allowed to hunt. Only the Ghost, roaming free somewhere out there in the neighborhood, was authorized.
As sheepdogs, Preisler and Johnson instinctively knew their job—to protect Marco, and Lara’s parents, at all costs. Per their training, they operated under the assumption that somewhere, unseen, a wolf was stalking their protectees. That wolf could be around the next corner or even standing right next to them. No matter where he was, he was always watching. They could take nothing for granted.
Because the wolf would decide when and where to attack, the wolf had the advantage. All the men could do was be ready to react. And when they did react, they reserved the right to visit overwhelming violence on the wolf.
Harvath had agreed and had insisted that they be kitted out with the best weapons and equipment available. If anyone came after Lara’s parents or her son, he wanted the response to be “biblical.”
Nicholas had arranged everything. The men were packing serious firepower, but moving in a civilian environment, especially a city like Boston, it had to be kept concealed.
They were all carrying short-barrel rifles. Preisler and Johnson had Kriss Vectors in custom messenger bags, while Kost sported a suppressed Honey Badger in a modified camera equipment bag.
For pistols, Preisler and Johnson had 1911s and Kost carried a Sig. They were all exceptionally proficient shooters with thousands of hours under their belts. It was not only their commitment to training, but in the cases of Preisler and Johnson, their years of active military experience that made them the best. Preisler had been with 7th Special Forces Group, and Johnson with 10th Group. Kost had entered the CIA immediately after college and had trained with multiple top tier military units—as well as with the DEA, who were some of the best gunfighters on the planet.