It was a perfect vacation, and Harvath and Lara had both needed it. But the question bubbling to the surface was if they needed more than just a vacation.
As far as he was concerned, Lara was not only gorgeous, tough as hell, and accomplished in her own right, but she was also very smart. Though he’d been dead set against her plan for taking down Sal Sabatini, she’d been right and he had been wrong. A fact she found no end of joy in reminding him of.
Lara hadn’t wanted a shootout in her apartment that could have killed her son or her parents. In fact, she had rightly put their safety above everything else. Neither of them had known for sure if Sabatini would still be in her apartment when they got there, but her instincts had told her he would be.
She had given Harvath the key for the apartment’s back door and had made him promise that if he could get to Marco and get him out safely, he would do it. Harvath had honored that promise, waking up the first-floor tenants, giving them the boy, and telling them not to open the door for Sal as he returned upstairs to help Lara.
To her credit, she had instructed her parents to run as soon as Sal led her out of the living room and down the hall to Marco’s room. He had come completely unglued by that point, and she was seriously worried that he might kill her. The only thing that gave her any comfort was knowing that Harvath had saved her son, and even if he couldn’t get back in time to save her, at least her little boy would survive.
But Harvath had come back and he had in fact saved her. He had also honored the other half of the promise she had sworn him to, which was that he wouldn’t kill Sal unless he had no other choice.
When asked why he hadn’t simply taken the man by surprise and knocked him out with the butt of his weapon, Harvath replied, “You said I couldn’t kill him. You didn’t say I couldn’t shoot him.”
His sense of humor was just one of the many things about him that she had grown increasingly attracted to.
The second night on Cape Cod, after they had put Marco to bed, they opened a bottle of wine and talked. Or more to the point, she had asked questions and Harvath had talked. She wanted to know everything about him and he had told her, more than he had ever told any woman before.
Harvath wasn’t a soft man, but he also wasn’t so hard that he couldn’t make room for someone like Lara Cordero and her son in his life. He was scared to admit it, but he’d fallen in love with that little guy the moment he saw him, and he was quickly realizing that the same might be true for Lara as well.
He didn’t know where any of this was going. All he knew was that he wanted the two of them to be in his life going forward. As long as he could lug huge pieces of driftwood up and down the beach, he knew he could count on Marco being on board. Lara, though, was another question.
She had been slow to open up about her past and he hadn’t pushed her. He didn’t really care what was behind them. He cared only about what might be in front of them, and today was a watershed moment.
Harvath hadn’t wanted to come to this stretch of beach. It had been Lara’s idea. “I need to finally say goodbye,” she had told him, and he had been okay with that. Closure was important, especially when someone so important in your life had died.
They had spent the afternoon doing all the things Marco liked doing on the beach, but they hadn’t been in the water. Coming back to Cape Cod was a big enough deal as it was. Going into the water where she had lost her husband might be a bridge too far.
Harvath smiled at her again and, scooping up Marco in his arms, leapt to his feet. “I promise,” he repeated. “It’ll be okay.”
Lara looked at him and slowly smiled back. In that moment, he thought or maybe hoped that he was seeing something fall away, much like the armor of her police persona, which dropped piece by piece on her way home at the end of the day.
Standing up from their blanket, she wrapped her arms around them both and kissed them. “I know it’ll be okay,” she said. “Why don’t we all go in together.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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With each thriller I create, my goal is to stretch myself as an author and become better at my craft. I had a lot of fun writing Hidden Order and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
The acknowledgments section is where I get to thank all the people who helped me over the past year. Of those, I owe my greatest thanks to you, my terrific readers. I work for you, and it is the greatest job anyone could ever have.
Equally important are all of the wonderful booksellers around the world who continue to help sell and introduce new readers to my novels every day. Thank you.
Once again, my dear friends Barrett Moore, James Ryan, Rodney Cox, and Sean F. were incredibly helpful. Without them, this book would not have happened. Thank you, gentlemen.
A special thanks for their support and friendship over the last year goes to Joel Brumlik, Dan Bitton, Mike Bitton, Ray Hamilton, and Shawn Landa.
I owe an additional debt of gratitude to Frank Gallagher, Steve Tuttle, Evan Jones, and John Levin.
To those who contributed to the novel, but whose names I am not able to include for security reasons, thank you for both your help and for your service to our great nation.
In Hidden Order, the Lydia Ryan and Bill Wise characters are so named because of their real-life spouses, who generously gave to two very worthwhile causes. I thank both Mrs. Wise and Mr. Ryan for their generosity.
On the publishing front, you will find no better people in the business than the amazing team at Simon & Schuster. To that end, I extend my deepest thanks to everyone at Emily Bestler Books and Pocket Books, particularly my phenomenal editor, Emily Bestler. Not only are her contributions invaluable, but working with her has proven to be one of the greatest joys of my career. Thank you, Emily.
I have surrounded myself with the absolute best, and so much of my success is directly attributable to the unparalleled business acumen of my outstanding publishers: Carolyn Reidy, Judith Curr, and Louise Burke. Ladies, thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for me and for the Brad Thor novels.
When I speak to aspiring novelists, I explain that writing a novel is only 40 percent of the work. You can write the greatest book in the world, but if no one knows about it you won’t realize much success. This is why you need an astounding publicist and why I am blessed to have the greatest one ever: David Brown. My thanks go to David and the rest of our outstanding PR team, including the world-renowned Cindi Berger and Cara Masline, as well as the second-to-none Valerie Vennix and Ariele Fredman.
I also want to thank all the stellar people on the Emily Bestler Books/Pocket Books sales staff, including Gary Urda, Colin Shields, John Hardy, the awesome art and production departments, the marvelous Sarah Lieberman, Desiree Vecchio, Armand Schultz, and the Simon & Schuster audio division, as well as the fantastic Michael Selleck, Kate Cetrulo, Caroline Porter, Irene Lipsky, Lisa Keim, Jeanne Lee, Al Madocs, and Tom Pitoniak.
Heide Lange of Sanford J. Greenburger Associates, Inc. is hands down the best literary agent ever. Her sage counsel, deep friendship, and the example she sets as a consummate professional are but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the qualities I cherish in Heide. Add to that, Heide’s spectacular assistants Rachael Dillon Fried and Stephanie Delman and everyone else at SJGA, and you have my constellation of lucky stars that I am thankful for every day.