Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(66)

“Agreed.”

“First, I’d like to do a sweep for weapons.”

“Already done,” said S?lvi. “There was a nine-millimeter Beretta in a holster mounted under the entry hall table. Behind one of the pillows on the couch in the living room was a Glock 17. I found a CZ-75 in the kitchen and a Browning Hi-Power in the nightstand upstairs.”

He was impressed. “What did you do with them?”

“I unloaded all of them, reset the triggers and put them back where I found them.”

“I guess I can scratch that off my list then.”

S?lvi smiled. “He carries a Glock 19. So be aware that he’ll be walking in already armed.”

Harvath had figured as much. What he couldn’t figure out was how she knew, down to the precise make and model. “How do you know what kind of weapon he’ll have on him?”

“In some cases, Carl left behind very detailed notes. In others, such as what you and Reed were doing with him here in Lithuania, there are no notes at all.”

“Which is why I want us to talk before he arrives. I don’t know how much time we’re going to have.”

The Norwegian slid the phone out of her pocket, activated its screen, and held it out so Harvath could see it.

It looked like a version of Google Maps in dark mode. On it, was a flashing dot slowly making its way north out of Vilnius.

“As long as he doesn’t stop on the way home from the office,” she informed him, “we have approximately twenty-seven minutes.”

“You have a tracker on his car?”

“Carl may have put some software on his phone.”

Typical spymaster, thought Harvath, shaking his head. “So Carl didn’t trust him.”

“What was it your President Reagan said?” she asked. “Trust, but verify?”

“But Reagan was talking about the Russians.”

“And this is Lithuania, which means—like it or not—that we’re also talking about the Russians.”

It begged an important question. “With Landsbergis’s help, we mounted a pretty big operation against the Russians. Why would he have agreed to help us, to have helped Carl, if he was a Russian asset?”

“I’m not saying he was. In fact, if Carl involved him in something that sensitive, I’d say he did it with full confidence that he was in the correct camp. You need to understand that Carl did a lot of things that pushed the envelope, including—when he could—putting software on his assets’ phones. Just because Landsbergis was on our side one day doesn’t mean he might not be on Russia’s the next. Part of what made Carl Carl was that he was always thinking ahead.”

She could have been describing Harvath’s very own mentor. Reed Carlton had a gift for peering over the horizon, recognizing an approaching problem, and coming up with solutions before anyone else knew what was going on.

With Carl’s protégé here, Harvath’s operation just got more complicated. He needed some more information from her. But, his jet lag kicking back in, he first wanted some more caffeine. He suggested they step into the kitchen.





CHAPTER 30


In the cupboard next to the fridge, Harvath had discovered an exceptional bottle of whiskey. He had found it while looking for where Landsbergis kept his coffee. If nothing else, the man had good taste. Setting it on the counter, he kept searching until he uncovered the coffee.

“Tough day?” S?lvi asked, nodding at the bottle.

“Tough year,” Harvath replied, as he took down two cups.

“Do you normally drink on the job?”

“Nothing I do feels normal anymore.”

“Well, just so we’re clear, I’d prefer not to get shot. You can have a drink or your gun. It’s up to you.”

She was right, of course. As much as he wanted to numb himself, and as much as he figured he could still function with a small amount of booze in his system, there was too much risk. He couldn’t afford deadening his senses and possibly making a serious mistake—one that might get either, or both, of them killed.

He decided against an Irish coffee, returned the bottle to the cupboard, and got to work preparing two espressos.

“We still doing okay on time?” he asked.

S?lvi checked her phone. “Yes.”

Removing his phone, he activated the screen and propped it up on the counter where they could both see it. After their exchange in the hallway, he had given Nicholas the “safe word,” as they jokingly referred to it, and had let him know everything was okay before disconnecting the call.

“Where’s this feed coming from?” she asked.

“I brought a small drone with me,” he replied as he went back to making their coffees. “This way, we’ll be able to make sure he’s alone.”

“Why? Are you expecting him not to be alone?”

“I’m not taking any chances.”

When the espressos were ready, he brought them over, they each pulled out a stool, and sat down.

“Who wants you bad enough to have tortured and killed Carl?” she asked, getting right to the point.

He couldn’t blame her. It was the same question he had been puzzling over. “It’s the Russians,” he answered. “I’m just not sure which Russians. That’s what I am here to find out.”