by Brad Thor
“That’s where I want to live,” he said with a wince. The wound to the back of his thigh sent a bolt of pain through his body as it came in contact with the seat.
“Why?”
“I saw it on television once. It looks very nice. The opposite of Russia. Sunny, warm, people fishing off the pier.”
“It’s also expensive,” Harvath pointed out.
“And I want a new camping van so I can go to the mountains on the weekends.”
That was one of the things Harvath liked about Russian spooks. The majority of them didn’t live by a code. As soon as they were captured, it was all about looking out for number one. And if they could cut a deal, they would—especially if it meant the ability to start over in a brand-new country.
The last deal Harvath had made with a Russian Intelligence officer had involved moving the man and his entire family to Italy. It had been expensive but completely worth it.
“Do you have a wife?” he asked. “Children?”
Sarov shook his head. “Neither.”
“Why would I want to make a deal with you?”
“Presumably,” the Russian replied, “you want to know what we were doing on that beach.”
“I’m rather confident that I know what you were doing.”
“You need the how,” said Sarov. “Background. Details. Those kinds of things. That information is what I would be willing to trade.”
“Your Chinese colleague is going to give me all of that.”
“At some point, yes, I am sure he will. But how will you know if he’s telling the truth? If his details match mine, then you know they are accurate.”
“Or that you two planned your story in advance.”
Sarov smiled. “Why would we do that? Neither of us believed we’d be caught.”
“Who then ordered the extra manpower?” Harvath asked, nodding toward the dead wet-work leader.
“After Han’s superiors learned that he was being followed, they insisted upon bringing in a team from Finland. I assume it was you or one of your people who was following him and killed the men at the construction site in Oslo?”
“You don’t get to ask questions. You get to give answers. Based on the quality of the intelligence you provide me, we can discuss maybe making a deal.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. But I am the best and only shot you have. So I suggest you make this worth my time.”
CHAPTER 42
Harvath set up a video camera. Some very powerful people back in the United States were going to have to sign off on any deal. He wanted them to see and hear exactly what Sarov had to say. And what he had to say was chilling. The Chinese had figured out how to disrupt America’s most sophisticated radar technology.
Not only had they figured it out, but they were also willing to share it with America’s enemies. That was a massive problem. After today’s stunt at Vardø, alarm bells were already ringing throughout the National Security community. Once they received Sarov’s information, the alarms were going to grow much louder.
The Chinese had code-named their program “Black Ice.” It wasn’t fully space-based—yet.
To operate, the system required a form of triangulation—two ground-based, laser-like devices that coordinated with a Chinese low-Earth-orbit satellite.
The ground-based devices were of different sizes and intensities. The device Han carried, which looked like a spotting scope and camera, was the less powerful. It required a direct, line-of-sight view of the target.
The second device was bigger and harder to conceal, and it required a lot more power. The advantage to it, however, was that it could be positioned over the horizon, hundreds of miles away.
When asked where device number two was currently located, Sarov refused to answer. Only when his deal was approved would he reveal its whereabouts.
That was a pretty big fucking question mark to leave hanging out there. Was it in Norway? Russia? Sweden? Finland? Back in China? No matter how strenuously Harvath cajoled him, the man wouldn’t say a word.
For an instant, he had considered getting rough with him, but that wasn’t the right thing to do. They had come this far. Harvath needed to live up to his end of the bargain and present the request to his superiors back home.
More important, it was imperative they be made aware of the other device. Once they knew where it was, he had no doubt they would want to launch an operation to retrieve it. Reverse engineering the Black Ice system and figuring out how to defend against it were going to be a top priority.
He had Haney and Staelin keep an eye on Sarov while he returned to the house to contact his boss back at The Carlton Group.
As he entered, he saw that Sloane and Chase had returned from searching the rooms at the Thon Hotel.
“Find anything?” he asked.
“Not much,” said Chase as he pulled a pill bottle from his pocket and tossed it to him.
Harvath looked at it. “What’s this?”
“We found it in Han’s room. Nicholas had somebody at Langley translate the label for us. Pain medication.”
“Do we know why Han would have pain meds?”
“Nope,” Chase replied. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Harvath had a lot of questions he wanted to ask the man. Hopefully, when he got around to it, Han would be much more cooperative. Right now, however, he needed to update Gary Lawlor.
Walking into the room Nicholas was using as his ops center, he saw that the little man already had a video call going with their boss. Harvath sat down next to him and filled Lawlor in on everything Sarov had said while Nicholas uploaded the interrogation footage and fed it back to the United States.
“Give me twenty minutes,” said Lawlor, who then disconnected the call.
“What do you want to do about him?” Nicholas asked, tapping on a screen that showed the live feed of Han suspended from the rafter in the shed.
Harvath looked at the bottle of pills and decided he’d try to talk with him again. Walking into the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of coffee and told Johnson and Preisler to follow him outside.
“Lower him,” he instructed when they arrived at the shed.
Preisler untied the rope and fed it out slowly while Johnson helped ease Han into a chair. He was unable to stand—even on his good leg—and was shivering.
“I think these belong to you,” said Harvath as he held up the pill bottle and gave it a shake. “Tell me what I need to know and I’m happy to let you have them.”
Cold, weak, and in intense pain, Han looked at Harvath and simply replied, “No.”
“Take him back up,” Harvath said to Preisler as he set his coffee down and walked out of the shed.
He returned a few minutes later with a bucket full of ice-cold water. Once Johnson and Preisler were out of the way, he tossed it at Han, soaking the Chinese Intelligence officer.
Then, picking up his steaming mug of coffee, he turned and strode back to the house.
He knew all too well what being wet and cold—on top of being in serious physical pain—could do to the human mind. Han was going to tell him what he wanted to know. Harvath just needed to speed up the process.
While he waited for Lawlor to get back to him, he reached out to Mercer. He had four dead Chinese and a car from Finland that he wanted to have magically disappear. The ex–CIA man told him he’d be there shortly.
Entering the kitchen, he helped himself to one of the traditional Scandinavian open-faced sandwiches Sloane had picked up in town and popped a couple more ibuprofen. His ribs were still bothering him. What he needed was a long, hot shower.
He was halfway done with his lunch when Nicholas summoned him. Lawlor was on the line. Topping off his coffee, he stepped across the hall to the room that the little man was using as their tactical operations center.
“We’ve been given an okay on the deal with Sarov,” Lawlor said as Harvath sat down in front of the computer. “Can’t guarantee it’ll be
Hermosa Beach. It could be Redondo, or they might stick him in Torrance, but don’t tell him that. As long as his information leads to the recovery of the other device, he gets a golden ticket.”
“Good copy,” Harvath replied.
“Call me back as soon as you have something.”
“Will do.”
Disconnecting the video call with Lawlor, Harvath picked up his mug and headed back out to the barn to speak with Sarov.
CHAPTER 43
Harvath checked in on Han as he passed the shed. Nothing had changed. The man was in terrible shape but still had no desire to cooperate.
That was fine by Harvath. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need him. He moved on to Sarov and the barn.
The Russian eyed him warily for several moments, sizing him up as he tried to ascertain whether or not he was telling the truth about the deal. Finally, Sarov spoke.
“The second device is on Svalbard. It’s an archipelago halfway between here and the North Pole.”
Though Harvath knew about as much about Svalbard as he did Kir-kenes, he had heard of it. “Where on Svalbard?”
“I assume on the main island.”
“You don’t know?”
“That part of the operation doesn’t involve me.”
“Who does it involve?”
“My colleague, Anatoly Nemstov. He’s the Russian Consul General in the town of Barentsburg.”
“Why him?”
Sarov shrugged. “Moscow wanted to protect the different phases of the operation. Compartmentalization.”
“Why does Russia have a consulate so high in the Arctic?”
“It’s a matter of national pride. We have the northernmost diplomatic outpost in the world.”
“How is Nemstov supposed to take possession of the second device?”
“Once I had confirmed that the Black Ice technology worked as promised, I was to contact Anatoly and give him a password, activating his phase of the operation. There was someone—I assume another Chinese Intelligence officer—he was to contact and arrange for the handoff of the other device.”
“Do you know who this person is or how they were to make contact?”
Sarov shook his head.
“How exactly were you going to confirm that the technology worked as promised?”
“I have an intelligence asset inside the GLOBUS station.”
Harvath absolutely didn’t like the sound of that. “I am going to need that person’s name as well as all of the information you have on them.”
“I assumed you would,” the Russian replied. “In the meantime, I would like something to eat and drink.”
Harvath nodded to Haney, who left the barn to go round up some food.
Continuing his questioning, he asked the Russian, “Do you believe the device is in Barentsburg?”
“It could be anywhere. Maybe even on one of the other islands.”
“What was your colleague supposed to do with it?”
“My understanding was that he would bring it back to Russia. Just as I was supposed to with the other device. But only if the test was a success. Of which, I must ask: Was it?”
“You’re forgetting the rules. I’m the only one who gets to ask questions,” said Harvath.
Sarov smiled. “It worked. Amazing.”
“Just to be clear,” Harvath pressed on, “the handoff of the second device, the second phase of the operation—it wouldn’t begin until you had notified your colleague in Barentsburg, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“How soon would he be expecting to hear from you?”
“Within twenty-four hours.”
“Why that kind of a window?”
“My asset would have to finish their shift at Vardø,” said the Russian, “return home, and reach out to me to set up a physical meeting.”
* * *
Harvath questioned Sarov for several more minutes until Haney returned with a tray. Confident that he and Staelin had everything under control, he left the barn and headed back to the house. Once again he stopped at the shed to speak to Han.
“You never want to be the last one to make a deal,” he said to him. “Always better to be the first one.”
Han was shivering and didn’t respond.
“Sarov told us everything,” Harvath continued.
“He knows,” the Chinese Intelligence operative replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Excuse me?” Harvath said.
“He told you everything he knows—not everything I know.”
“Well, he knows a lot. Enough, in fact, that I’m not even sure what value you could provide at this point. He made a very good deal for himself. You can too—if you have something I can use. That said, this is the last time I am going to offer you one. From this point forward, things will only get much worse. It is up to you. The pain and discomfort you’re feeling right now is going to seem like heaven compared to what’s coming.”
Han was quiet for a full minute. “Cut me down,” he requested.
“Not until I see some cooperation from you.”
“What kind of deal can you make me?”
“First, you answer one of my questions,” said Harvath, removing the bottle of pills from his pocket. “What are these for?”
“Pain.”
“What kind of pain?”
“My right hip—the one you have been forcing me to stand on. The doctor thinks it may be cancer. I have a family history. Cut me down. Please.”
Looking into the camera, Harvath told Johnson and Preisler to come out to the shed. Once they arrived, they gently lowered Han and placed him in the chair.
“May I have my pills, please?” the man asked, suffering etched across his face.
“Before I do, tell me something that the Russians don’t know.”
“There’s a fail-safe built into the equipment. A kind of kill switch. If the Russians tried to take the equipment apart and reverse engineer it, it would be triggered. If our operation became compromised, we could trigger it ourselves. Beijing can also trigger it remotely.”
“If you don’t report in,” said Harvath.
Han nodded.
“Is there a way to circumvent the kill switch? To disable it?”
“First, my pills. Then we talk about a deal.”
CHAPTER 44
By the time Mercer showed up at the safe house, Harvath had already sketched out the rough parameters of a deal with Han and had transmitted it back to Lawlor for approval: full Mayo Clinic treatment if he, in fact, did have cancer; residency in the U.S.; and an apartment in San Francisco with a view of the bay.
Unfortunately, like Sarov, the Chinese Intelligence officer had been kept in the dark as to where on Svalbard the other device was and who, on behalf of the Ministry of State Security, was handling the transfer to the Russians.
He agreed to explain how to neutralize the kill switch and to make contact with his superiors in Beijing so that nothing appeared amiss. Harvath was wary of him making contact with Beijing but left that decision up to Langley. The last thing they needed was for Han to transmit a distress code and for the second device to have its kill switch engaged before they could get their hands on it.
If Han wanted to screw them over, he absolutely could—and Harvath hated that the U.S. was in the weaker position. There was no way of knowing if Han would be transmitting a distress code or if his instructions for disabling the kill switches wouldn’t actually activate them. “You don’t have a choice,” he had said, echoing Harvath’s words to Sarov. “You’ll have to trust me.”
He instructed Johnson and Preisler to get Han relatively warm and relatively comfortable. If word came back to go at him with a hammer and tongs, he didn’t want to have to start from square one.
While he waited for Lawlor to get authorization for the deal, he joined Mercer and gave him a rundown on what had transpired. Then he popped the trunk on the wet-work team’s car and gave him a look at the bodies inside.
“
Where’s the fourth guy?” Mercer asked, all business.
“In the barn.”
“So, do you want all of this gone gone? As in never a trace? Or do we just not need the Norwegian police spinning up an investigation till we’re safely out of the country?”
Mercer was a thinker. Harvath liked that about him. And he was willing to bet that the Old Man had too.
“Gone gone,” Harvath replied. “As in never a trace.”
“Okay, then I’m going to need a cow call, a case of peanut butter, and someone to drive my vehicle for me.”
Harvath looked at him, hesitant to ask. “I understand needing another driver. What are the peanut butter and cow call for?”
“Wolves are like dogs. They love peanut butter. They also love female moose. We’re going to coat the bodies with peanut butter and use the cow call to draw them in, maybe even bleat a little bit like a calf. But we’ll have to get moving soon. I want to be in position by sunset.
“Send one of your people with cash to get the peanut butter. There’s a couple of stores in town, so have them spread the purchases around. Just in case. If some lucky farmer bags a wolf and opens it up to find human remains and they can still detect peanut butter on the animal, we could have a problem.”
“Understood,” replied Harvath. “And the cow call?”
“There’s a sporting goods store I know of. I can take care of that.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. Have someone dig around in those corpses and pull out any bullets. The wolves are doing us a favor. The least we can do is clean up their meal.”
“I’ll put our medic on it,” Harvath said. “What are you going to do with the car?”
“In the forest I have in mind, there’s a deep, scum-covered pond. Nobody fishes in it. Nobody swims in it. We’ll sink the car there. I’ll be wearing gloves, so make sure your people have wiped it down for prints before we leave.
“Finally, it should go without saying, but I’m going to ask anyway. Have you scrubbed them?”
Harvath nodded. “No phones. No ID. No pocket litter. No jewelry. I’ll have someone take the tags out of their clothes.”
