Full Black - Brad Thor [63]
“Well, sir,” replied Harvath, “some organizations need leg breakers and some need egg breakers. At least we’ve got the best.”
“We can debate that later. I want you back here because he’s apparently broken enough eggs to put together an omelet.”
Harvath gripped his phone a bit tighter and lowered his voice. “Did we get a lead on something?”
“You’ll see when you get here. Now get that jet refueled and get moving.”
Harvath had no idea what Nicholas had uncovered, but he quietly prayed that it was something they could use to stop Karami and the other cells before they could strike again.
CHAPTER 29
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
Larry Salomon had finally hit the wall and asked if there was someplace he could lie down. Hank McBride showed him to the guest room. Luke Ralston, though, was too amped up to sleep. There were too many unanswered questions moving around in his head. He stayed in the kitchen, poured himself another cup of coffee, and turned the volume on the TV back up.
Helicopter footage was being broadcast on all the local channels split-screened with live shots of reporters speaking outside the gates to Larry Salomon’s home. Comparisons to the Tate-LaBianca murders, Phil Spector, and even Nicole Simpson were being made, though none of those murders were directly comparable to what had happened.
The only thing they had in common was that celebrity was involved, and that was all that the Los Angeles newscasters needed. As macabre as it was, people loved stories like these and it was where the phrase “If it bleeds, it leads” came from. Toss in a ton of money and more than a little dash of Hollywood, and the story was destined to bust out as a national news phenomenon.
The reporters still had very little to go on. They knew that there were multiple fatalities inside the house and that the residence belonged to legendary movie producer Lawrence Salomon. There was no mention of Russian Spetsnaz. There was no mention of the two dead documentary filmmakers. And there was no mention of a search under way for either Salomon or Ralston. Ralston had no doubt, though, that it was on. Big-time.
In fact, there were probably police officers going through his house right now. More officers would be talking to his neighbors. Detectives would be pulling his phone records as well as Salomon’s to see who each had been talking to in the hours leading up to the events at Salomon’s house. When the restaurant where Larry had left his car opened up, they’d be calling the authorities and more officers would swoop down on the restaurant, the vehicle would be impounded, and staff would be questioned, all in the hope of uncovering even the smallest detail that might explain what had happened.
Even though the murders had happened further up in Coldwater Canyon, it would still be in the LAPD’s jurisdiction. That meant that some of the best detectives in the country would be working the case. Ralston wondered how long it would take for them to uncover his background. Probably a while. The Army was very protective of the identity of its Special Operations Forces, especially Tier One Delta operators. Considering the magnitude of what had happened, though, his background wouldn’t stay hidden forever.
In the meantime, he had to hope that the LAPD detectives working the case were going to look at the size of those Russians and start putting things together. What worried Ralston, though, was that without anyone to explain who the bad guys were, the Russians might be viewed as Salomon’s security, who’d all been taken out in an attempt to kidnap the famous film producer.
The more Ralston thought of it, the more he started to worry that that might end up being the working hypothesis. Salomon didn’t have lots of people up to his house. Ever since Rachael had been murdered he hadn’t been the same, and his friends and colleagues would tell the police as much. Hell, even Ralston’s visits to the house seemed to