After Kopec climbed in and the vehicle had pulled out of the drive, Ryan came up behind him.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Exactly as the Old Man predicted.”
She smiled, “Artur has no idea he’s Matterhorn, does he?”
“Nope,” said Harvath. “That’s the genius of the Old Man. As soon as he learned Kopec was a spy for the Russians, he began devising a way to exploit him. You and I just took it to the next level.”
“I played the part given me,” Ryan replied, downplaying her role. “You’re the one who took everything to the next level. Do you think he has any clue that there are no Gryphons in Europe? That even the upgrade kits were phony?”
Harvath couldn’t be sure. His whole plan had been to buy time; to knock the Russians off-balance and force them to reassess their attack. He had just needed long enough to figure out what the invasion would look like so NATO could put the right assets into the Baltics to stop it.
“Speaking of which,” she continued, “General Dynamics says we can keep the fake upgrade kit their R&D department built for us.”
He smiled. “It’ll look great in the conference room.”
“It’ll look better in your office.”
Harvath nodded and made a mental note to send them a special thank-you. Having something to prove the alleged existence of the kits, and thereby the missiles, was critical to his plan. The Russians didn’t have to buy it 100 percent. They just had to be worried that land-based cruise missiles, some possibly nuclear-tipped, might have been waiting for them if they tried to invade.
Looking out the living room’s large bay window toward the lake, Ryan saw Lara coming back from her walk. Nodding in her direction, she stated, “You two should spend some time together.”
“We will,” said Harvath, as he walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a bourbon. “Let’s finish up our business first.”
Ryan’s laptop, a stack of file folders, and myriad papers were strewn across the coffee table. “Welcome to my office,” she said, offering him a seat.
Harvath pulled out a chair and sat down. “Where should we start?”
“How about we start with why Barton didn’t fly back with the team.”
“He met a nice Polish girl, but it’ll never last. She’s too smart and has much better taste.”
Ryan’s smile broadened once more. “Jasinski turned out to be a good choice.”
“She was excellent,” said Harvath. “I’d work with her again in a heartbeat.”
“The Supreme Allied Commander had a lengthy debrief with her and the feeling’s mutual.”
“What are you hearing from the Baltics?”
“I’ve got good news,” Ryan replied, “and then I’ve got good news. Which do you want first?”
“How about we start with the good news?” he said, smiling.
“Nicholas knocked it out of the park. He publicly exposed every fake Twitter and Facebook account that the Russians, through their hacker group Fancy Bear, were using to stir up dissent. He also managed to insert an undercover-style journalism team into the Troll Factory with hidden cameras.
“All of the television stations in Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia are running specials exposing how the Russians were trying to weaken them from within.”
“His sleeves are short, but there’s always something up them.”
Ryan laughed and continued. “As you know, as soon as you dropped off Tretyakov, Vella went to work on him.”
“How has that been going?”
“Very well. He has been able to extract a lot of information about how they had planned to invade the Baltics.”
“Had planned?” asked Harvath. “Past tense?”
“The Russians have canceled their training exercise and are actively repositioning much of their military equipment out of the theater.”
“They know we have Tretyakov.”
“They know someone has him,” Ryan replied. “And that’s all that matters. Based on what we have passed along to SHAPE, NATO is already taking steps to shore up the weak points the Russians had planned to exploit in the Baltics.”
“That’s great news.”
Ryan agreed. “Yes it is. You and your team did a fantastic job. But before we celebrate, there’s a bookkeeping item we need to discuss.”
“What is it?”
“Chase and Sloane’s expense report from Belarus.”
“What about it?” Harvath asked, slowly remembering that this was a part of his job he really didn’t care for.
“They were supposed to pretend to steal the crates of alleged missile upgrade kits and then use the Old Man’s contact to smuggle them into Belarus.”
“Which they did.”
“Did you know that after dumping the bricks we used to weigh down the crates, they took all the smugglers out for champagne and steak dinners in Minsk?” she asked.
Harvath laughed. “I didn’t know that, but good for them. We should give them a bonus for initiative. That’s a valuable relationship we need to maintain.”
Ryan didn’t necessarily disagree. Faking the theft of the missile upgrade kits had been a key part of their strategy. Allowing the Russians to see the U.S. and Baltic Ambassadors in a heated exchange at the UN was also part of their plan.
It was all over now, though. The ends, as Chase had said back in Kaliningrad, had justified the means. Their assignment was to avert an Article 5—and by all accounts they had done that.
“There’s one other thing,” said Ryan, as she removed a sheet of paper and slid it across the table to him.
“What’s this?”
“The names of every cell leader across Europe in the People’s Revolutionary Front organization.”
“Tretyakov gave this up?” he asked.
“It came direct from the Solarium,” Ryan confirmed. “The list is yours if you want. Full expense account. No time limit.”
Harvath looked at the names and the list of European cities. Then he lifted his head looked out the window at Lara.
“I’ll take it,” he said.
Ryan was surprised. “You will?”
Pushing the list back across the table, he smiled and said, “No. Sloane and Chase should take it.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” he replied. Like it or not, he was the spymaster now. “Give them a limited expense account and three weeks to finish the job. It’s time to turn them loose and to see what they can do.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stick around?” asked Ryan.
“For a day or two,” he said with a wink, as he stood up from the table and walked out the door to be with Lara.
But outside, something was wrong. He could see it in her body language as he walked toward her. Before he even saw the shooters, he knew what had happened. Kopec had betrayed them.
“Run!” Lara screamed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I always start out the acknowledgments with a special thank-you to the most important people on my list — you, the readers. Thank you not only for reading and enjoying my novels, but most of all for the wonderful word of mouth. There is no greater honor you can pay a writer than to recommend one of his books.
I also want to thank the fabulous booksellers around the world who carry my novels and introduce new people to them every day. Yours is truly a noble profession, which allows all of us to share in the love of books.
One of my greatest honors is being able to spend time with the selfless men and women engaged in the worlds of espionage, counterterrorism, special operations, law enforcement, and politics. Many of them provided assistance for this novel, and to them I am extremely grateful. Thank you.
My lifelong friend, Sean Fontaine, had no idea Spymaster would be dedicated to him. Thank you for everything over the years, Sean, but most important, thank you for your friendship and the fearless service you have rendered our country.