Page 117 of Spymaster

He was doling out a lot of thank-yous, but he had a top-notch team and they deserved every one of them. The presence of mind to clean the scene like that was a testament to their professionalism. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” replied Staelin. Looking at the damage on both cars, he added, “We need to get rid of these vehicles.”

Harvath agreed, but first he wanted to confirm they weren’t already being tracked.

They swept each of the GRU sedans and didn’t find any tracking devices. That was the good news.

The bad news was that their pickup point was at least forty-five minutes away. And that was if they took the most direct route. The direct route, though, wasn’t an option. Not for them.

If it hadn’t happened already, police and military throughout the exclave would soon be alerted. Patrols at the border would be stepped up, as well as along all the roads.

The longer they were out in the open, especially during the daytime, the greater the likelihood was that they were going to get caught. They had to go into hiding—now.

Glancing over at the defunct car wash, Harvath got an idea.

•••

There had been just enough room to get both cars inside and still close the metal roll-down door. Harvath used the derma-bond from his med kit to make the broken lock look as if it had never been touched.

They each still had water and protein bars, and there were drains in the floor should anyone need to relieve themselves.

Though no one felt like sleeping, Harvath still posted a guard rotation. It was important that they be prepared for anything.

The next thing he needed to do was burst an update and request a change in the pickup point and the time.

He didn’t like risking the exposure, but inside the windowless car wash, without an unobstructed view of the sky, he wouldn’t be able to get a signal.

He had Sloane, with her suppressed H&K VP9 pistol, cover him as he placed a small, vehicle-mounted satellite antenna outside and then surreptitiously ran the cord back inside.

It was a calling card that, if discovered, would announce their presence, but he didn’t have a choice. Without comms, they were dead in the water.

Retreating inside, he attached the antenna, burst the message to Ryan, and then shut everything off.

Under the guise of combating terrorism, Moscow monitored satellite communications throughout Russia and its territories. While terrorism was a legitimate concern, the effort was more about controlling free speech and blunting espionage. Whatever was being said, at any time, anywhere, the Kremlin wanted to know it.

The position was so draconian that even foreign visitors were mandated to purchase Russian SIM cards for their satellite phones or face fines and potential imprisonment.

Compressing his message and sending it in a short, fast burst was designed to avoid detection and have the lowest probability of intercept. Even if the Russians noticed, there’d be no way for them to trace it.

With the message sent, all they could do was wait. They were used to it. Being good at waiting made you good at the game. And they needed to be good at the game if they were going to get out of Kaliningrad alive.

In fact, they were going to need to be great.

CHAPTER 70

LAKEGOLDAP, POLAND

Mike Haney sat down on the outdoor terrace of the Hotel Mazurach, ordered a beer from the waitress, and once she was gone, filled Barton and Jasinski in on his brief reconnaissance operation.

“I’m actually more worried about the Polish side of the border than the Russian side,” he said. “Based on what I could see, they’re using a lot of high-tech equipment to detect illegal crossings—lasers, infrared, that kind of thing. There are also foot and vehicle patrols, including four-by-fours.”

“That’s because Poland acts as a border for the EU,” said Jasinski. “They’ve put a lot of money into security here.”

“You can say that again. All the buildings are brand-new. The difference between the Polish side and the Russian side is pretty stark.”

“How about the lake itself?” asked Barton.

“That’s the good part. All they have is a line of buoys marking the border. And a bunch of signs that say Do Not Cross.”