Foreign Influence_ A Thriller - Brad Thor [17]
Harvath liked the people at the FBI, but he knew that outside the forensics specialists they’d have working the bombing, any other agents would take a backseat to their Italian counterparts. The attack had happened on Italian soil, and despite the high number of American casualties this would remain an Italian investigation.
“I still don’t buy that the Troll was involved in something like this.”
“Maybe you put too much of a dent in his business. Maybe he needed to branch out and start dealing in explosives. It doesn’t matter. We’ve been tasked with bringing him in. If you don’t want the assignment, I can give it to somebody else.”
“No,” replied Harvath, removing the file from the table. “This is mine.”
Carlton nodded. “We have an apartment in Rome you can use, unless you want to begin in Naples, in which case we’ll arrange something for you there.”
“He’s not in Italy. He’s in Spain.”
“How do you know?”
Harvath had a lot to do. Standing, he picked up his coffee mug and said, “Because he just called me to set up a meeting.”
CHAPTER 7
BILBAO
TUESDAY
After landing in Madrid, Harvath passed through immigration and customs, then took the metro into the city. It was packed with tourists.
Near the boisterous Puerta del Sol, he entered a nondescript building, rode the aging elevator to the fourth floor, and used the key he had been given to gain access to the Carlton Group’s Madrid safe house.
He located the capabilities kit that had been left for him and cataloged its contents. While capabilities kits could be tailored to the specific assignment, as a rule they contained all of the hard-to-acquire items an operative might need in a foreign country.
Kits were Spook 101 and normally included cash, sterile SIM cards, cell phones, lock-picking tools, a condensed trauma kit, tracking bugs, Tuff Ties, a Taser, folding knife, multitool, IR laser designator, infrared strobe, night vision monocular, and a compact weapon with high-end ammunition. In Harvath’s case, the compact weapon was a Glock 19 with two spare magazines of 9mm +P ammunition.
The contents of the kit fit neatly into the 3-Day pack he had brought along with him.
Following a quick shower and shave, he gathered up his belongings and returned to the metro. At Chamartín station, he boarded a train headed north.
Though Carlton could have arranged for the gear to be dead-dropped in Bilbao, Harvath preferred doing it this way. There was no telling who or what would be waiting for him when he arrived. It was a city he didn’t know and didn’t have any allies in. Too much could go wrong. It was better to arrive prepared.
As the high-speed train raced across the Spanish countryside, he closed his eyes. He thought about Tracy and the good-bye call he had placed before leaving. He also thought about the family he was never going to have with her.
Shortly past nine o’clock in the evening, the train arrived at Abando Station. Mixing in with other passengers, Harvath kept his eyes open as he headed toward the escalators beneath the magnificent wall of stained glass at the end of the terminal.
He took the Bilbao metro and got off two stops before his hotel. Moving through the neighborhood, he conducted a series of surveillance detection routes, or SDRs, to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The evening air was cool and carried a hint of rain.
At a small café across from the hotel, Harvath ordered a coffee and watched the ebb and flow of the sidewalk traffic. He studied the cars parked up and down the street and when he was confident that he hadn’t been followed and that the hotel wasn’t under surveillance, he paid his bill, crossed the street, and checked in.
In his room, he changed into a pair of dark jeans and a sweater. He tucked his Glock into a leather holster near the small of his back. He put on a comfortable pair of low-profile hiking boots and a leather jacket with deep pockets.
Exiting the hotel through