Brad Thor - State Of The Union

“He wasn’t,” said Alexandra.

“What?”

“He wasn’t there. He was working on putting together our meeting with the organization’s top members.”

“So, I couldn’t have possibly killed him then.”

“Not directly, but because he was new, the organization was already suspicions of him. His conspicuous absence from the bloodbath that was your ransom exchange was enough to tip their paranoia, and they shot him.”

“The key word here beingthey,” interjected Harvath. “Theyshot him.”

Alexandra asked, “Do you know how long it took us to get inside that group?”

“Probably longer than for us to take them out.”

“That is not amusing, Agent Harvath.”

“I think it is. You want to blame me for things I had absolutely no control over. While you’re at it, why don’t you talk about the 1980 Winter Olympics and how I blew it for the Soviet hockey team and handed the Americans theMiracle on Ice.”

“I think we’re done here,” said Alexandra, pushing her chair back.

Things were quickly falling apart. “Wait a second,” offered Harvath, getting himself back under control. “I apologize. You lost an operative and had a serious investigation compromised. That’s not something to make jokes about.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” replied Ivanova.

“Then why don’t we get back to the matter at hand?”

“The information my father may have had.”

“Exactly, although it’s not a question of whether he may have had it or not. We know he did.”

“You mean,now you know he did.”

Harvath understood the anger she felt on behalf of her father for having been rebuked and subsequently disavowed, but that didn’t mean that her obstinacy wasn’t getting under his skin. He reminded himself of why he was there and what he was after-what hung in the balance. “Your father had information about a plot by five Russian generals to take the United States hostage.”

“Is that how your country is viewing it? As ahostage situation? How very American.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Scot.

“I always understood that a hostage situation involved the potential for bargaining. From what I understand, the goal was the complete and total surrender of the United States.”

“So your father did take you into his confidence.”

Not until he had died, thought Alexandra, but that was none of Harvath’s business. “Your code name is Norseman, is it not?” she asked.

“What does my code name have to do with anything?”

“Are you familiar with the Russian word,Varangians?” she continued.

“My knowledge of Russian is somewhat limited.”

“Varangiansis our name for the Norse princes invited in to restore order to Russia in the Middle Ages. We don’t need any more Norsemen here. We can solve our own problems.”

Harvath had finally had it with her. “This isn’t just your problem, it’sour problem. If we don’t do something, these men are going to start World War III.”

“Who says I’m not doing something?” asked Alexandra.

“I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re doing because you haven’t told me anything. Do you mean you and the FSB are aware of what the generals are up to and are working to put a stop to it?”

“I’m not certain if the FSB is aware of what is going on or not. I am sure that at some level there is knowledge of the plan. After all, our esteemed Russian president was once the head of the FSB’s predecessor.”

“You’re saying the Russian president is a part of all of this?”

“Of course he is, but there are layers of what in America you callplausible deniability to keep him isolated.”

Harvath was shocked. “And you approve of what they’re doing?”

Ivanova pulled her chair back up to the table and got right in Scot’s face. “No, I do not approve,” she snapped. “It is unquestionably the worst thing my country could ever undertake. It is an insane plan hatched by insane old men from an entirely different era. They might as well be from another planet for all the sense this makes, but the plan has already been put into action and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

“The hell there isn’t,” replied Harvath.

“Oh, really? What are you going to do?”

“Whatever it takes to stop them.”

“Good luck,” responded Alexandra, sliding her chair away from the table again.

“Wait a second. You said you thought this was the worst thing Russia could ever undertake.”

“And I meant it.”

“So why aren’t you doing something?”

“I am. On my own.”

She wasn’t making any sense. “Then what did you mean by now that the plan has been put into action, there’s nothing we can do about it?”

“I said there’s nothingyou can do about it.”

“Okay, hold on a second. We keep losing focus here.”

“I’m losing nothing, Agent Harvath, except my patience with having my time wasted.”

“I understand,” replied Scot. “I can see, after what happened to your father, regardless of who was responsible for the leak, why you would be reluctant to tell me what you know.”

“Can you?”

“Yes, I can, but we need to work together on this.”

“Why is that? Do you have some sort of information that may prove helpful to me?”

“Maybe,” replied Harvath.

“I think you’re lying. I don’t think you have anything at all to offer. If you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

She was right. She had him. She was his only lead. He needed to get her to cooperate. “No matter what you think, you can’t do this alone. I can help you.”

“There’s one small problem, though,” said Ivanova.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“But you don’t even know me.”

“You’re an American, and that’s enough for me.”

“Then why even agree to meet with me?” asked Harvath.

“Because I wanted to see the look on your face when I told youno.”

“What? Because of Istanbul?”

“No. When I said yes to the meeting, I had no idea they were sending you.”

“Then what was it?”

“I’ll tell you what it was. I wanted to look into the eyes of an American, a representative of thegreat United States and see that the only reason his country had sent him to me was because it had been humbled and had nowhere else to turn. I wanted to see your government finally admit that they had made a mistake with my father.”

“So this is about revenge?”

“No, it is about satisfaction.”

“Satisfaction?How much satisfaction are you going to feel if millions of innocent people, both in America and Russia, end up getting killed because your petty resentment prevented you from doing the right thing?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.”

“And neither am I. As strange as it sounds, you and I are playing for different teams, but we’re both on the same side. We can accomplish more by working together than we can apart.”

“We have a saying in Russian,” said Alexandra, as she stood up from her chair. “Having been burnt by milk, one blows on vodka.”

“Once burned, twice shy,” responded Scot.

“Exactly. I plan to continue blowing on my vodka. Goodbye, Agent Harvath, and good luck.”

Alexandra Ivanova turned and exited the Hermitage Café, leaving Harvath with only one option.

Because of St. Petersburg’s northern latitude, the sun set very early in winter. Often, the arrival of evening was accompanied by brutally cold winds and this evening was no exception.

The sky was completely dark when Harvath collected his pack and followed Alexandra Ivanova out of the Hermitage. She appeared to be wandering aimlessly, which considering the weather made no sense. After strolling the famous Nevsky Prospekt and browsing in several shops, she backtracked and made her way toward the beautiful onion-domed Church of the Resurrection of Christ. Harvath waited several moments and then entered, staying hidden in the back where he could continue to observe her. Though it wasn’t as warm as the Hermitage had been, he was happy to at least be out of the cold.