Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

By the time Harvath exited the SCIF, he had already made his decision. It wasn't easy. In fact, it went against almost everything he stood for. That said, it was the only way forward.

Retrieving his phone from the cubby, he powered it back up and was greeted by several messages from S?lvi. The news about what had happened on the flight from Kraków must have made its way to her.

He texted back that he was okay and would be at the apartment soon. Grabbing his bag, he left the embassy and picked up an Uber a block away.

He made two stops en route to her apartment. One was for a bouquet of flowers. The other was for a bottle of Krug and a small tin of Desietra caviar. Harvath had a few, very specific reasons why he bought this particular brand. Yes, the caviar tasted great and was the perfect accompaniment to champagne—although so were pizza and popcorn, he had found—but Desietra was completely sourced in Western Europe, not Russia or Iran, and the brains behind the company belonged to a successful American entrepreneur from, of all places, Wisconsin. Harvath's patriotism didn't stop at the U.S. border; he took it with him wherever he went.

When they arrived at the address he had provided, Harvath thanked the driver, tipped him via the app, and gave him five stars.

Once the car had driven off, he turned and walked the two short blocks back to S?lvi's. It was a minor inconvenience; an investment in making sure that he wasn't being followed and that the apartment wasn't under surveillance.

It also gave him a few more minutes to sort out his words. He had never been placed in this kind of position before. The territory was completely foreign. In his mind, he knew what he had to do. His gut, however, was ripping him apart.

When he arrived at the entrance of the building, he took one last look up and down the street. Confident it wasn't being watched, he stepped inside, locked away any misgivings in the attic of his mind, and headed up to the apartment.

S?lvi was already there waiting for him.

He threw his arms around her and they shared a long hug, followed by an even longer kiss.

Once they had peeled themselves off each other, he handed her the flowers and said, "These are for you."

"They're beautiful," she replied. "Thank you."

He couldn't believe they were finally together again. "You're beautiful. God, you have no idea how much I missed you."

"I think I've got a little idea."

She flashed her megawatt, million-dollar smile that he loved so much, and for the moment, nothing else mattered.

"Bedroom or living room?" he asked, holding up the bottle of Krug.

"Neither, I'm afraid."

"Balcony?" he pressed, seductively raising an eyebrow.

S?lvi laughed. "For now, refrigerator. But later…" Her voice trailed off as she leaned in and gave him another kiss.

"So you're not staying."

"I wish I could, but I have to get back to the Woods."

The Norwegian Intelligence Service was located just outside the city center, on a lake, surrounded by heavy forest. The nickname for their headquarters had practically created itself.

"Maybe dinner?" he asked.

"I'd love that," she replied, kissing him again. "And you can tell me all about what happened on your flight. And in Ukraine. And everywhere else you've been since we last saw each other."

"I'd love that too," he said.

But there remained an item they needed to discuss. Something he wasn't content to let wait. Holding up his phone and pressing his index finger against his lips, he motioned for her not to speak.

She didn't know what he was up to, but nodded in response. When he held out his hand for her phone, she pulled it from her pocket and gave it to him.

"I brought you something from my trip," he continued as he opened the fridge and quietly put both phones inside. "It's in my suitcase."

Once he had closed the fridge door, he activated the dishwasher and then led her back to the master bath. Closing that door behind them, he turned on the shower and pulled her close.

"Scot," she began in protest, "I've missed you too, tons, but they're expecting me back at the—"

He pressed his lips up against her left ear and whispered, "When was the last time you had the apartment swept for bugs?"

"A couple of weeks ago," she whispered back. "Why?"

"The CIA knows about your Russian defector. They know it's Leonid Grechko."

"How?" S?lvi asked, stunned. "I didn't even tell you who it was."

"I don't know. Holidae wouldn't reveal her source."

"So this comes from Oslo station."

Harvath nodded. "She met me at the airport and drove me straight to the embassy to discuss it."

"Does the CIA have my apartment bugged?"

"I asked her and Holidae said no, but…" This time, it was his voice that trailed off.

"But what?"

He took a deep breath before responding. "You can't trust her."

S?lvi didn't understand. "She's going to be at our wedding. She's your colleague, Scot. And my friend. What do you mean I can't trust her?"

It was the moment of truth. He was about to cross the Rubicon. And once he did, there'd be no crossing back.

Using the words he had settled on outside, he replied, "The CIA wants me to spy on you. Holidae is their point person. She made it clear what would happen if I didn't."

Her eyes widened. "She threatened you?"

"I don't think she wanted to, but I also don't think they left her with much choice."

S?lvi didn't respond.

Pulling his mouth away from her ear, he looked at her face and could see that she was pissed-off. Very pissed-off.

A fraction of a second later, she pulled him back in close, pressed her lips up against his ear, and said, "First, fuck her and the CIA. There's no way in hell we would have held back intelligence critical to the United States. She could have come to me. We're NATO allies. The fact that she didn't, tells me something. But the fact that she sent you to get information, tells me something even bigger."

"Which is?"

"Washington is scared. They must have a piece of the puzzle that we don't. And from the little bit I've learned, they should be scared. In fact, the United States should be terrified."