Foreign Influence_ A Thriller - Brad Thor [111]
“How about our guy’s username and password?”
“That’s better.”
Harvath rattled off the information and Carlton told him he’d reach out to some friends he had in Tel Aviv and get back to him as soon as possible.
When he stepped back inside, Ashford was bagging the keyboard and headset as evidence. He then asked Rhodes to e-mail the recording she had made so he could see if there was a voiceprint of the man on file somewhere.
Those tasks complete, he looked at Harvath. “It’s your call. What do you want to do now?”
“Where are you doing the interrogations?”
“At a lovely country estate outside the city,” said the MI5 man. “Why? You want to watch them? I thought interrogations made you squeamish.”
“Only if I don’t wait at least a half hour after eating before jumping into one.”
Ashford smiled as his phone vibrated. He removed it from his pocket, unwrapped the earbuds, and read the text message that had just come in. “If we’re done here, I’ve got transport for us outside.”
Harvath looked at Casey. “Are we done?”
The Athena Team leader nodded. “We’re all good.”
Outside there were two passenger vans waiting. Ashford turned to Harvath with a suggestion. “Why don’t you and your team get something to eat? I’ve assigned two of my best men to you. They were both Royal Marines. Whatever you want, they’ll see to it.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to drop the evidence at my office and then pay an unannounced visit to the Skype people over on Lexington Street.”
“I want to come with you to Skype.”
The MI5 man pointed over his shoulder. “This was just a warm-up. If I encounter resistance from Skype, that visit is going to be considerably more unpleasant.”
“I can probably help bring some pressure to bear.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You and Peaches do seem to have a very similar approach. Neither of you ever take no for an answer.”
Harvath was flattered to be compared to the Old Man.
Ashford looked at him. “In my country, the fact that I have to order you to take five very attractive ladies to lunch would be grounds for immediate dismissal.”
“What about Amsterdam?”
“Let’s worry about Skype first. Without that, there is no Amsterdam,” he said as he removed his hand from Harvath’s shoulder. “Relax and eat with your team. I’ll let you know what happens at Skype, and if we somehow get a break in the interrogations, I’ll call you immediately.”
“You’ve got all my numbers, right?”
“Yes,” said Ashford as he walked toward his vehicle. “Don’t worry.”
Harvath watched as Ashford climbed into the number-one van and it pulled away. A tall, well-built man in his early thirties, dressed in a sharp blue suit and perfectly polished shoes, stepped out of the remaining vehicle and walked over to Harvath.
He stuck out his hand and said, “My name is Bloom. Commander Ashford has instructed us to take care of you.”
They had gone from one hundred miles per hour to five, and Harvath hated it. All-ahead-stop was not a maneuver he was fond of. He didn’t know how to channel his energy. If he wasn’t careful, it could wind up as anger.
He shook the man’s hand and tried to be nice. “You’re aware that the situation we’re in is still active, correct?”
“Yes, sir. The commander briefed us.”
The Brits were so damn professional, and polite. “I guess we need to eat,” he said and then added, “Someplace where we can keep the vehicle close in case we have to move quickly.”
“Understood, sir.”
“It would also be nice if we could eat someplace where we’re not going to stick out and the ladies won’t be bothered.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
Once the team was in the van, Bloom and his colleague, Michaels, took the team to Number 8 Herbert Crescent. It was an unremarkable Victorian building behind Harrods department store in Knightsbridge. It was perfect and Harvath had no doubt that Ashford had made the reservations himself.
There was no name plaque on the shiny, black door; only