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Harper knelt down, scratched Venom’s ears, then stroked his head from his neck down to his butt.
“You’re such a good boy, Venom. You like staying with Aunt Sally, don’t you?”
His intelligent soul stared at him stoically, then searched Sally, and then turned back to study Harper again. He knew something was up. Harper stroked him again and let him know that yes, he was going to miss him as well.
Early in the morning, a little bit after one, Harper got a call from Admiral Patterson.
“We’ve located him. It’s a positive ID. I’ve secured the rentals for you, and we’re arranging the vehicles.”
“Why the early morning call? You could have called me tomorrow at a later time,” Harper asked.
“Because we believe they’re going to be taking a trip and wanted to make sure you were ready, just in case we have to leave early. They move around a lot, and he’s just had a whole group of military-age males arrive at the villa. We have our guy on it, and I’ll get some pictures for you and send them over. If I get them before I send out the contracts, I’ll make sure to include them.”
“Any idea what kind of activity they’re going to do?” Harper asked.
“It’s definitely a bomb. They’ve been picking up fertilizers and some metal containers, all stuff they’d use for a huge bomb, something showy. Near a large population area. Only thing that will be well-populated will be the market on Friday. There aren’t any festivals planned. But the market will blow their cover. We assume it will be somewhere else.”
“Wouldn’t they head to a larger city?”
“We don’t believe they’re going to travel very far with all that liquid they have to transport. Stuff’s not stable, either. But we understand they do have plans to leave. I think we are going to cut off contact just to make sure he doesn’t wind up checking over his shoulder and get spooked. We want you to have the optimum result.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“One other thing. I did get a couple calls from three of your guys, and I had to reassure them that the money was real and that I would be depositing funds in everyone’s account tomorrow. I just wanted you to know, Harper. Are you sure about everyone you’ve chosen?”
“Can’t give you a hundred percent, Admiral. Most of them have never met me before. Until that happens, we’re a little stuck.”
“If you’re not solid about any of them, I want you to pull them before you go.”
“Will do. So if there isn’t anything else, can I get back to sleep?”
Chapter 12
Harper waited inthe hanger in Coronado for the rest of his team to show up. Earlier in the day before he hopped on the flight from Santa Rosa, he’d said one final goodbye to his father and rewarded Venom with another steak dinner last night. He took the time to care for what was left of his family: His dad and Venom. He combed and petted the dog, speaking to him in hushed tones before he took him down to spend the night at Sally’s, since he was to leave early in the morning.
His dad that evening was the same as he’d been the time before, but without the restraints. He even managed to get an appointment with his father’s doctor.
“I know you’re concerned about what the next step is here, options being limited. I really think he’s still able to be reasoned with, Harper. Rather than placing him in one of our quiet rooms, a holding cell for lack of a better word, I think we should explore other options. I think a cell would be tremendously demeaning to him, and he might mistake the experience as going to jail. I’m going to recommend, instead, that we up his meds and perhaps take away his desire to be so active.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.”
“But it’s the safest for him. You don’t want to let him spend his days throwing feces, do you? If he gets into that routine, you’ll never be able to trust taking him places in public. It would be the end of his social life, Harper. There are lots of new drugs that just take away that need to break out and act up, without turning him into a Zombie. I’d like to try a few, if you don’t mind.”
“If you honestly think it will keep him safer and out of confusing mental pain, Doctor.”
“I do, Harper. At this point, his dementia has progressed so far that it’s like a rubber band that’s been overstretched. It’s not going to go back. I wouldn’t hold out any hope that he will improve. If we see a clinical trial coming down the line I think we should try, I will make sure to put his name in for a testing trial.”
Harper had been satisfied with his report, explained to the doctor that he would be out of the country, and gave them Sally’s phone number in case some emergency befell his dad.
“You can also try calling me, as I believe I will have cell service. But I may not be able to talk, and I certainly can’t come home to handle anything.”
Now, as he sat in the hangar, all the planning and preparation and the interviews he conducted with the team gave him a renewed sense of hope. He was satisfied that he’d done all he could do, for now. He believed he got all the right players, and he was anxious to get the mission started.
He even surprised himself. He was the “no leadership” guy, the one who never wanted to be in charge, who preferred to make things happen for another leader. But this prospect, this team, gave him some of his old excitement he used to feel on Team 3 and others he’d served on.
He mentally reviewed his team qualifications.
He’d recruited Sean Daly, the old man of the group at nearly fifty years of age, an explosives expert from SEAL Team 5. Paul Taylor from his own Team 3 was his second, with a special interest in making odd-looking devices the enemy thought were lethal when they weren’t. He and Calvin “Coop” Cooper from Team 3 had made a challenge of it, trying to better each other, much to the Team’s delight. Harper was glad Paul had decided to come along, although he told Kyle, if it wasn’t “perfect,” he was coming back to Team 3. Harper would take him anyhow, because he was easy to work with and damned smart.
