Page 113 of Spymaster

Aside from a smattering of vagrants and occasional people cutting through, either on foot or by bicycle, the park was relatively quiet.

The scent of the river was strong and unpleasant. Harvath could only imagine what it was like at the height of summer. But despite that, the island appeared to be an enjoyable, and likely a popular place. It was filled with trees, there were open places to sunbathe or play soccer, there were plenty of benches, and in addition to the cobbled boulevard that ran up the center, there were a multitude of walking paths that branched off in all directions.

Harvath watched as Tretyakov passed the cathedral and the Kant tomb, then took a path that branched off to the right. At the first bench he came to, he sat down.

Placing his briefcase on his left side, he took out the envelope that the babushka had given him. Opening it, he removed the letter from inside, and began to read.

At that moment, another impulse fired from deep inside Harvath’s brain. Looking around, and not seeing anything suspicious, he decided to take Tretyakov right there in the park.

CHAPTER 67

Harvath walked up and stopped right in front of Tretyakov. For several moments, the Russian didn’t even bother to look up from his letter.

Once he did, he spoke in English. “Mr. Stephen Hall, I presume,” he said, using Harvath’s alias from Gotland.

“You can call me Steve.”

Returning the letter to its envelope, Tretyakov placed it in an outer pocket of his briefcase and studied the man standing in front of him.

“It’s a little early in the morning for that, isn’t it?” the GRU officer asked, eyeballing the empty vodka bottle Harvath had fished from a nearby trash can.

“This isn’t for me. It’s for you. In fact, you’re going to be holding on to it in a moment.”

“You think so?”

Harvath nodded. In his pack was a syringe of ketamine, known for its use as a horse tranquilizer. He had planned on hitting him with the Taser and then injecting him with the ketamine to make it look as if he had passed out drunk. As soon as he had him incapacitated, he would work on getting him out of the park and back to the abandoned building.

“Mr. Hall, or whatever your real name is, I’m afraid I cannot help you.”

The man was incredibly calm. He sat on the bench as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Though Harvath hadn’t shown it to him, he assumed that the hand he couldn’t see, the one hidden in his right coat pocket, was grasping a weapon.

“I think you’re going to be a lot of help to me,” said Harvath, pulling out his Taser.

“Close in. Now,” Tretyakov ordered in Russian.

The sudden switch from English jarred Harvath. Instantly, his head was on a swivel.

Four vagrants were now headed toward him from different directions, as were two more “passersby.” All had weapons drawn. It was a trap.

“Sometimes, things are too good to pass up,” said Tretyakov. “Like a GRU colonel, sitting alone, on a bench in a quiet section of a quiet park.”

“There’s no way you could have known I was coming.”

“I didn’t. It was ahunch, I believe you Americans call it. When Ivan failed to make contact, we assumed the worst. We knew eventually he would be broken. We just didn’t know when. I must thank you, though.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t think we would catch you so quickly. We were worried we might have to carry on this ruse for quite some time.”

Harvath shook his head. “Only six men? That’s all?”

“Apparently, that’s all we needed.”

When the first of the GRU operatives, a bald, muscular man with a scar along the side of his head, got within striking distance, he took Harvath down hard.

Wrenching his arm behind his back, he placed him in handcuffs, left him on the ground, and patted him down.

Relieving him of his Taser, he tossed it to a colleague who was going through his backpack.