SIXTY-SIX

SWITZERLAND

It was nearly nightfall when the Crossair Saab 340 HK-ABN aircraft touched down on the tarmac at Sion International and taxied toward the military section of the airfield. It was amazing what a difference a few seconds of video on al-Jazeera could make. Harvath should have been leading an assault force of American Special Operations soldiers up to Château Aiglemont, but instead he was standing in the dim overhead lighting of a small hangar, watching the plane arrive, and reflecting on the enormity of the favor he had cashed in only hours before.

When Claudia Mueller had assisted him a couple of years earlier in rescuing the president from a team of Swiss mercenaries known as the Lions of Lucerne, she was merely an investigator with the Swiss Federal Attorney’s Office. Now, though, she was a full-fledged prosecutor with considerably more power and considerably more responsibility. She had reacted to his call just as he had expected she would. At first, she was surprised to hear from him. Their relationship had ended a long while ago and he had never seen the point in keeping in touch. He wasn’t what she wanted and she had made it clear that she was moving on. He couldn’t blame her. Just like he couldn’t blame Meg Cassidy for moving on, but his personal problems aside, he knew Claudia Mueller was the only one who could help him.

Of course, Claudia was skeptical at first, and in all fairness, he would have been too. That was why he had had Ozan Kalachka e-mail her the kidnapping footage showing Timothy Rayburn and then had Kalachka follow it up with a call to one of his contacts within the Swiss government. For his part, Harvath assembled a memo about Rayburn, his aliases, and the credit card information placing him in Le Râleur and sent it to her hoping that it would be enough.

As a prosecutor, Claudia had become even more demanding about evidence, and when she waxed noncommittal, Harvath hit her with the only card he had left to play. When the two of them had gone to rescue the president from Mount Pilatus, they had been operating on a lot less. That fact brought back a lot of memories for Mueller. Harvath was right, they had been operating on a lot less at the time, but they were not trespassing on private property and he wasn’t asking her to commit the lives of other people in the process. Even so, in her short time with him she had learned that Scot Harvath had incredible instincts, and so she decided to trust him.

When the dual-prop Saab 340 HK-ABN pulled up in front of the hangar and dropped its stairs, Harvath felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Claudia Mueller was the first one out, and she was twice as beautiful as he remembered. Her long brown hair had been streaked blond by the summer sun, and her skin was a deep bronze. She might have been very busy at work, but Harvath could see she hadn’t given up her love of climbing. It was obvious she was still spending a good amount of time outdoors. For a moment, Harvath questioned how he could have ever let her go. Then, just as quickly, he was reminded of the fact that he hadn’t let her go, it had been the other way around. Claudia had seen that he was too wrapped up in his career to ever stick out a real relationship.

Nevertheless, she was here now, and Harvath allowed himself, at least for a moment, to believe that she wouldn’t have come unless she still cared for him. The thought warmed him until she reached the bottom of the stairs and her left hand trailed down the handrail. On it was something he hadn’t expected to see-an engagement ring.

Though he had no right to feel betrayed, to Harvath it was as if someone was slicing through his heart with a pair of pruning shears. As he looked at her, he suddenly saw everything that they might have had together, but which she would now have with another man. Maybe he had given up on things between them too easily. Maybe there were things more important than his career.

Harvath tried to shift his mind to something else and focused on the twenty men who followed Claudia off the plane.

Unlike most of the other nations in the world, Switzerland was unique in that, despite its ability to do so, it didn’t field a national counterterrorism unit. Instead, the police force of each canton had its own special tactical unit, similar to SWAT teams in the United States. Out of all the canton tactical units, the Stern unit from Bern was the absolute best. Not only did Harvath want to use the absolute best, he also wanted out-of-towners, as there was no telling how loyal the local police were to the Aga Khan. It wouldn’t have surprised Harvath in the least to discover that they were on the man’s payroll.

Harvath knew that the Stern unit had seen the most action in Switzerland, having deployed on two serious operations, which involved rescuing fourteen hostages from the Polish embassy in Bern, as well as sixty-two hostages from a hijacked Air France 737. If there was going to be trouble, these were the guys he wanted to have on his team.

Harvath met Claudia halfway to the hangar, and she kissed him on both cheeks. Even though it was meant as a friendly, nonsexual gesture, he still felt a charge shoot through his body.

“When I told you to call me if you ever needed anything, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she said as the Stern commandos unloaded their gear and carried it into the hangar.

“You know me,” replied Harvath, “I never bother keeping in touch unless I’ve got something exciting going on. Speaking of which, you’re engaged?”

Claudia looked down at her ring then back at Harvath and smiled, almost self-consciously. “Yes, we’re getting married at Christmas.”

“Congratulations. Where’s the wedding going to be?”

“My family’s farm in Grindlewald. Scot, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“Why?” asked Harvath. “It’s not like you and I are dating anymore. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Even so, I feel uncomfortable that you didn’t know.”

“Well I do now, so you can relax. Who’s the lucky guy? Someone from the federal attorney’s office?”

“Not exactly,” said Claudia as one of the commandos came up next to her and set down his bag. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé. Horst Schroeder, this is Scot Harvath, the man I was telling you about on the plane.”

Schroeder had to be at least six-foot-three and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. Though he was no judge of man flesh, Harvath couldn’t help but notice how handsome the guy was. With his strong, square jaw, solid nose, and broad forehead, the man’s face looked as if it had been chiseled from a solid block of granite. “So, you’re Harvath,” said the man as he stuck out his enormous hand.

“That’s right,” replied Scot as he returned Horst’s grip.

“You’ve got all the information we need to plan the assault?”

Schroeder was typical Swiss-no bullshit and straight to the point. Either that, or he was a little too up-to-speed on Harvath’s past relationship with his fiancée and had taken a disliking to him before their plane had even touched down. “Are you the team leader?” asked Harvath, who had no desire to get into a pissing match with some jealous husband-to-be.

Schroeder nodded his large head.

It pays to know people, thought Harvath as he realized now how Claudia had been able to put a team together so fast. “I’ve got the pictures and video in the hangar.”

“Claudia says you’re thinking about conducting a re-creation of Operation Oak,” said Horst. “Very clever.”

“We’ll see,” replied Harvath. “The pilots are already inside. They’re going to be the ones we need to convince.”

“Then let’s get started,” said the big man as he clapped Harvath on the back and walked him into the hangar.