Full Black - Brad Thor [100]
He bypassed the coffeemaker and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. After hydrating, he pulled on his running shoes and stepped outside. It was a perfect day, sunny and with a light breeze.
His house was a small, renovated eighteenth-century stone church known as Bishop’s Gate that stood on several acres of land overlooking the Potomac River, just south of George Washington’s Mount Vernon estate. During the Revolutionary War, the Anglican reverend of Bishop’s Gate had been an outspoken loyalist who had provided sanctuary and aid to British spies. As a result, the colonial army had attacked the church, inflicting grave damage.
It lay in ruins until 1882, when the Office of Naval Intelligence, or ONI, was established to seek out and report on the enormous post–Civil War explosion in technological capabilities of other foreign navies. Several covert ONI agent training centers were established up and down the eastern seaboard to instruct Naval attachés and military affairs officers on the collection of intelligence and the finer aspects of espionage.
Because of its isolated yet prime location not far from Washington, D.C., Bishop’s Gate was secretly rebuilt and became the ONI’s first covert officer training school. As the oldest continuously operating intelligence service in the nation, the ONI eventually outgrew Bishop’s Gate. The stubby yet elegant church with its stone rectory was relegated to “mothball” status.
The Navy had many such properties in its inventory, but the majority of those suitable for use as dwellings were reserved for high-level defectors and other displaced political personages the United States government found itself responsible for.
Regardless of a property’s status, if it fell within the U.S. Navy’s portfolio, the U.S. Navy was responsible for maintaining it. With so many properties to look after, maintenance and carrying costs were quite high. This, coupled with the fact that Harvath, a U.S. Navy SEAL, had shown exemplary service to the nation, played a large role in the secretary of the Navy’s agreeing to a special arrangement suggested by the former president of the United States.
The church building and the attached rectory, which had been converted into a nice-sized house, came to more than four thousand square feet of living space. Those structures, along with a garage, an outbuilding, and the extensive grounds of Bishop’s Gate, had been deeded to Harvath in a ninety-nine-year lease. Per the lease he was to pay a token rent of one U.S. dollar per annum. All that was required of him was that he maintain the property in a manner befitting its historic status and that he vacate the premises within twenty-four hours if ever given notice, with or without cause, by the United States Navy.
While Harvath had gone above and beyond for the president, he had still been stunned to be extended such a generous offer.
On his first visit, while exploring the rectory attic, he found a beautifully hand-carved piece of wood. Upon it was the motto of the Anglican missionaries. It seemed strangely fitting for the career Harvath had pursued. TRANSIENS ADIUVANOS, it read. I go overseas to give help. At that moment, he had known he was home.
That was several years ago, and now he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
Standing on his front steps, he stretched each of his legs. He had decided on a short run, just up to Mount Vernon and back. Once his muscles were warm, he started his jog.
Exercise always had a way of clearing his head and making him feel more energized. Today was no exception. He didn’t think about work at all. He thought about the things he needed to get done around his house. He thought about getting out on the Potomac and doing a little sailing. He also thought about what kind of ruse he could run to get Riley Turner to D.C. for a visit.
A few miles later, at the entrance to Mount Vernon, he turned around, picked up his pace, and ran back. When he returned