Full Black - Brad Thor [91]
Carlton stood up, placed his hand atop Harvath’s shoulder, and guided him toward the door. “Go home and get some rest,” he repeated. “I’ll call you if anything breaks.”
Harvath did as he was told. Retrieving his personal vehicle from the garage, he headed south on I-495 toward home. By the time he hit US-1, all he could think about was a hot shower and falling into bed.
He let the water pound on his body for a good five minutes before turning it off and reaching for a towel. He was too tired to shave.
After cracking the bedroom window, he lay down and closed his eyes. Sleep should have come quickly, but it didn’t. Instead, his mind took over and replayed everything that had happened in Sweden, over and over again.
He couldn’t escape his feelings of responsibility, the guilt he felt over the deaths of the assaulters. He tried to focus on something else, something positive. He thought about Riley Turner and what she might be doing at the moment.
It worked for a while, but then he was back on the mental rack, his mind torturing him with what-ifs and second-guessing over what had happened. He thought about pouring himself a stiff drink and numbing it all away, but chose instead to lie there and take it.
Finally, two hours later, he drifted off into a fitful sleep. In it, he was haunted by visions of a larger, more gruesome attack he felt sure was about to hit the United States.
CHAPTER 37
LONDON
SATURDAY MORNING
Robert Ashford possessed one of the key character flaws necessary to a traitor. He thought he was smarter than everyone else. This allowed the overeducated career bureaucrat to sell out his own country, because he believed he knew what was best for his nation and its people.
Of course, he was being well-paid for his treason, but he rationalized the money away by telling himself that it wasn’t about money. This was about right and wrong, and if only England and the rest of the West had stood up and done the right thing, none of what he was doing would have been necessary.
It was this deep-seated belief and growing disenchantment with the direction of the world that had drawn him to James Standing.
Ashford had read all of the billionaire’s books. Never had one person been able to put what he was feeling so succinctly into words. Standing was the high priest of a glorious new truth. A majestic ship was about to sail and there would be only so many seats on board. Ashford had no desire to be left behind. In fact, he thought he could be very helpful in bringing about the new dawn that James Standing was going to usher in.
The two had been introduced at a cocktail party given by a mutual acquaintance, an influential member of Parliament. Standing was impressed not only with Ashford’s thorough reading of his books, but also with his dedication to his vision of a new world. Slowly, the men’s relationship built.
Ashford was a confirmed bachelor and the billionaire had originally thought him gay until he realized the MI5 man was simply a careerist. Entanglements, familial and otherwise, were seen as something that could only slow him down. Without wife, children, or girlfriend, Ashford could work any and all hours without fear of recrimination. With both military and intelligence training, he was the perfect man for the job Standing was creating.
When the billionaire had assured himself that Ashford’s loyalty could indeed be purchased and assured, he parted the curtains and drew the man inside. Now, Ashford was trapped. Standing had him and he could never go back.
And despite most of his colleagues’ having already retired, Ashford was still in the game. It was all that mattered to him, and he was damn good at it. At least he had been. All of a sudden, though, too many things were not working the way they should.
While he still had no idea what had happened to the sanction of the Hollywood producer, the source of the rest of his operational headaches