Blowback (29 page)

SWITZERLAND

It was nearly nightfall when the Crossair Saab 340 HK-ABN aircraft touched down on the tarmac at Sion International and taxied toward the military section of the airfield. It was amazing what a difference a few seconds of video on al-Jazeera could make. Harvath should have been leading an assault force of American Special Operations soldiers up to Château Aiglemont, but instead he was standing in the dim overhead lighting of a small hangar, watching the plane arrive, and reflecting on the enormity of the favor he had cashed in only hours before.

When Claudia Mueller had assisted him a couple of years earlier in rescuing the president from a team of Swiss mercenaries known as the Lions of Lucerne, she was merely an investigator with the Swiss Federal Attorney’s Office. Now, though, she was a full-fledged prosecutor with considerably more power and considerably more responsibility. She had reacted to his call just as he had expected she would. At first, she was surprised to hear from him. Their relationship had ended a long while ago and he had never seen the point in keeping in touch. He wasn’t what she wanted and she had made it clear that she was moving on. He couldn’t blame her. Just like he couldn’t blame Meg Cassidy for moving on, but his personal problems aside, he knew Claudia Mueller was the only one who could help him.

Of course, Claudia was skeptical at first, and in all fairness, he would have been too. That was why he had had Ozan Kalachka e-mail her the kidnapping footage showing Timothy Rayburn and then had Kalachka follow it up with a call to one of his contacts within the Swiss government. For his part, Harvath assembled a memo about Rayburn, his aliases, and the credit card information placing him in Le Râleur and sent it to her hoping that it would be enough.

As a prosecutor, Claudia had become even more demanding about evidence, and when she waxed noncommittal, Harvath hit her with the only card he had left to play. When the two of them had gone to rescue the president from Mount Pilatus, they had been operating on a lot less. That fact brought back a lot of memories for Mueller. Harvath was right, they had been operating on a lot less at the time, but they were not trespassing on private property and he wasn’t asking her to commit the lives of other people in the process. Even so, in her short time with him she had learned that Scot Harvath had incredible instincts, and so she decided to trust him.

When the dual-prop Saab 340 HK-ABN pulled up in front of the hangar and dropped its stairs, Harvath felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Claudia Mueller was the first one out, and she was twice as beautiful as he remembered. Her long brown hair had been streaked blond by the summer sun, and her skin was a deep bronze. She might have been very busy at work, but Harvath could see she hadn’t given up her love of climbing. It was obvious she was still spending a good amount of time outdoors. For a moment, Harvath questioned how he could have ever let her go. Then, just as quickly, he was reminded of the fact that he hadn’t let her go, it had been the other way around. Claudia had seen that he was too wrapped up in his career to ever stick out a real relationship.

Nevertheless, she was here now, and Harvath allowed himself, at least for a moment, to believe that she wouldn’t have come unless she still cared for him. The thought warmed him until she reached the bottom of the stairs and her left hand trailed down the handrail. On it was something he hadn’t expected to see-an engagement ring.

Though he had no right to feel betrayed, to Harvath it was as if someone was slicing through his heart with a pair of pruning shears. As he looked at her, he suddenly saw everything that they might have had together, but which she would now have with another man. Maybe he had given up on things between them too easily. Maybe there were things more important than his career.

Harvath tried to shift his mind to something else and focused on the twenty men who followed Claudia off the plane.

Unlike most of the other nations in the world, Switzerland was unique in that, despite its ability to do so, it didn’t field a national counterterrorism unit. Instead, the police force of each canton had its own special tactical unit, similar to SWAT teams in the United States. Out of all the canton tactical units, the Stern unit from Bern was the absolute best. Not only did Harvath want to use the absolute best, he also wanted out-of-towners, as there was no telling how loyal the local police were to the Aga Khan. It wouldn’t have surprised Harvath in the least to discover that they were on the man’s payroll.

Harvath knew that the Stern unit had seen the most action in Switzerland, having deployed on two serious operations, which involved rescuing fourteen hostages from the Polish embassy in Bern, as well as sixty-two hostages from a hijacked Air France 737. If there was going to be trouble, these were the guys he wanted to have on his team.

Harvath met Claudia halfway to the hangar, and she kissed him on both cheeks. Even though it was meant as a friendly, nonsexual gesture, he still felt a charge shoot through his body.

“When I told you to call me if you ever needed anything, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she said as the Stern commandos unloaded their gear and carried it into the hangar.

“You know me,” replied Harvath, “I never bother keeping in touch unless I’ve got something exciting going on. Speaking of which, you’re engaged?”

Claudia looked down at her ring then back at Harvath and smiled, almost self-consciously. “Yes, we’re getting married at Christmas.”

“Congratulations. Where’s the wedding going to be?”

“My family’s farm in Grindlewald. Scot, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“Why?” asked Harvath. “It’s not like you and I are dating anymore. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Even so, I feel uncomfortable that you didn’t know.”

“Well I do now, so you can relax. Who’s the lucky guy? Someone from the federal attorney’s office?”

“Not exactly,” said Claudia as one of the commandos came up next to her and set down his bag. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé. Horst Schroeder, this is Scot Harvath, the man I was telling you about on the plane.”

Schroeder had to be at least six-foot-three and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. Though he was no judge of man flesh, Harvath couldn’t help but notice how handsome the guy was. With his strong, square jaw, solid nose, and broad forehead, the man’s face looked as if it had been chiseled from a solid block of granite. “So, you’re Harvath,” said the man as he stuck out his enormous hand.

“That’s right,” replied Scot as he returned Horst’s grip.

“You’ve got all the information we need to plan the assault?”

Schroeder was typical Swiss-no bullshit and straight to the point. Either that, or he was a little too up-to-speed on Harvath’s past relationship with his fiancée and had taken a disliking to him before their plane had even touched down. “Are you the team leader?” asked Harvath, who had no desire to get into a pissing match with some jealous husband-to-be.

Schroeder nodded his large head.

It pays to know people, thought Harvath as he realized now how Claudia had been able to put a team together so fast. “I’ve got the pictures and video in the hangar.”

“Claudia says you’re thinking about conducting a re-creation of Operation Oak,” said Horst. “Very clever.”

“We’ll see,” replied Harvath. “The pilots are already inside. They’re going to be the ones we need to convince.”

“Then let’s get started,” said the big man as he clapped Harvath on the back and walked him into the hangar.

Harvath introduced Claudia Mueller to Jillian Alcott and half hoped to see a glint of jealousy in her eye, but there was none. Whether Claudia felt anything or not, she was being a complete and thorough professional. After everyone in the hangar was seated, Harvath began his presentation.

With the help of an AV tech from the military base, he had uploaded all of his pictures, videos, and drawings into a PowerPoint presentation, which he now went through for the benefit of Claudia, the Stern team, and the special pilots he had asked her to arrange. “This is the base of the funicular in Le Râleur, “He narrated along with the corresponding pictures. “Two police officers in each car. As far as we were able to tell, they have.40-caliber sidearms and tactical shotguns, but nothing heavier than that.”

“How long are the shifts?” asked a man from the Stern team.

“They appear to change about every four hours.”

“What about the actual compound?” said Schroeder.

“We did a couple of passes by plane,” continued Harvath, “and the reaction of the security team was exactly what I would expect.”

“Not very friendly?”

“I’ll let the video speak for itself,” said Harvath as he scrolled to that part of his presentation. “These are the main buildings here. Not much action until we go to this next clip and come in for a second, considerably lower pass.”

One of the men let out a whistle. “The way those security people run out of that building, they look like rats jumping off a sinking ship.”

“Hold it a second,” interjected Schroeder. “Can we back it up and enhance that? What is the man at the far edge of the patio doing?”

“Good eye,” replied Harvath. Regardless of what he thought of Claudia marrying the guy, the operative was definitely good at his job. “I noticed that too. “Turning to the AV tech helping with the presentation, he asked, “Can you sharpen that up a little bit?”

“Not by much, but let me see,” replied the young man, who tightened in on the figure in question.

Though most of the resolution was gone, there was enough left for everyone to know what they were looking at. “That man has a Stinger on his shoulder,” said Schroeder.

“I guess I can put my doubts about probable cause to rest now,” replied Claudia, who had sat down next to Jillian Alcott and was watching the presentation with rapt attention. “We definitely don’t allow private citizens to possess missiles in Switzerland.”

Harvath had known she would take him at his word, but he was glad to see her more convinced about the operation as he progressed through his briefing. “You may have heard that this operation is being based on Operation Oak, and some of you now probably understand why. For those of you who do not, let me clarify it for you.

“In July of 1943, Benito Mussolini was placed under house arrest by the Italian government in a hotel on top of Gran Sasso Mountain in central Italy. Adolf Hitler knew that without Mussolini in power, Italy would change sides and align itself with the Allies. In order to prevent that from happening, Hitler selected one of his top commandos, Captain Otto Skorzeny, to launch one of the most daring raids in modern military history. When it was over, Skorzeny had earned the Knights Cross to the Iron Cross and title of the most dangerous man in Europe.

“Much like Château Aiglemont, the hotel where Mussolini was kept was accessible only via a funicular railway, the base of which was heavily guarded by Italian carabinieri. Because of the height of the mountaintop, the stability of the air, and the limited open space available for use as a drop zone, a parachute insertion was ruled unfeasible and landing helicopters or airplanes would have been too noisy. So, the teams inserted via glider.”

“And that’s how we’re going in?” asked one of the commandos.

“Pretty much. Skorzeny evacuated Il Duce with a short takeoff and landing aircraft known as a Stork. The initial assault force in our operation will go in via self-launching gliders from this airport. Part of that initial assault force will secure the upper portion of the funicular so the rest of the team can be brought up that way from the village. Once we have Tokay under our control, we’ll hopefully be able to evacuate him down the funicular, but if we can’t, we’ll have to use one of the self-launching gliders.”

“They might not hear us coming,” said another commando, “but at some point they are definitely going to see us. What then?”

“First,” replied Harvath, “we’ll be coming in out of the east with first light, so they aren’t going to see us until we’re almost right on top of them. And secondly, we’ll be landing in a meadow at the side of the main building that I don’t expect them to be watching too closely.”

“That’s a lot to suppose,” said the commando.

“I’m counting on a glider landing to be something that will arouse curiosity but not alarm.”

“And if it does?”

“Then we improvise,” said Schroeder, cutting his man off and turning to Harvath. “I see where you’re going with this, but Skorzeny also had one other item at his disposal that we don’t-Ferdinando Soleti, a high-ranking general in the carabinieri.”

“Whose men were deployed at the hotel and tasked with guarding Mussolini. I know,” replied Harvath. “Skorzeny faced many of the same obstacles that we do. First, his commandos had to overwhelm the Italian forces quickly enough to prevent Mussolini from being executed. Secondly, the commandos were greatly outnumbered by the Italian troops. And finally, those Italian troops had the benefit of being dug into a serious defensive position.

“The best thing I can offer you are the words of Skorzeny himself, ‘The safer the enemy feel, the better our chances of catching them unaware.’” Harvath paused for effect and then continued. “Skorzeny realized his men needed to get out of their gliders and gain control of Mussolini within three minutes if their plan was to be successful. It is no different for us. This operation will require the same three characteristics brought to bear on any successful tactical undertaking-speed, surprise, and overwhelming force of action.”

Schroeder nodded his head. “Agreed, but the brilliance of Skorzeny’s operation was in having Soleti in the very first glider. Soleti was a carabinieri commanding officer. When he climbed out of that glider, the Italian troops were so confused that they had no idea what to do. That hesitation was what Skorzeny needed to gain the upper hand and the successful outcome of his mission. They were able to pull it off without a single shot being fired.”

Harvath fingered the Carthaginian wrist cuffs resting in his coat pocket, the same ones he had been carrying since their near-fatal climb in France, and said, “I think we can get our hands on a Ferdinando Soleti of our own, but I want to talk to you about that in private.”