Page 122 of Spymaster

Through the branches up ahead, Harvath spotted what looked like the remnants of an old stone foundation—maybe from a caretaker’s cottage or a previous lodge of some sort.

“There!” Harvath shouted, directing his team to it.

They all scrambled or leaped over the foundation wall. Harvath helped Tretyakov as Chase and Sloane laid down cover fire.

Finally getting up and over, Tretyakov landed hard on the other side, followed by Harvath.

“If I had known we were going to be taking on the whole Russian Army,” said Staelin as he changed magazines, “I would have brought along a little more ammo.”

Like Tretyakov, Harvath’s exfil plan was shot to shit. All the work Haney and Barton had done staging dry suits, full face mask SCUBA gear, and propulsion devices was out the window.

Even if they could get to all of it, it was highly unlikely they could successfully transport Tretyakov, underwater, to the Polish side of the lake where the boat was waiting.

He was going to have to come up with another plan. And right now, there was only one plan he could think of. Activating his radio, he hailed Barton.

•••

“What the hell is that for?” Jasinski asked, as the SEAL flipped open the Storm case and removed a Mark 48 belt-fed machine gun.

“It’s for you,” he replied, quickly attaching it to its mount. “Did they teach you how to load and fire one of these things in the Polish Army?”

“What are you trying to do, start a war?”

“Actually,” he replied as he opened three ammo cans and then fired up the engine, “I’m trying to stop one.”

Down the lake, they could hear the withering fire that Harvath and the rest of the team were under.

Hailing Haney over the radio, Barton said, “Good to go, on your mark.”

“Roger that,” Haney replied, “stand by.”

The SEAL looked back at Jasinski through his night vision. He could see that she hadn’t yet loaded the weapon. “If we don’t go, the Russians are going to kill them.”

When she still didn’t do anything, he pushed past her, loaded a belt of 7.62 ammunition, and charged the Mark 48.

When Haney’s voice came back over the radio and said, “Now!” Barton told Jasinski to hold on as he pushed the throttle all the way forward.

The engine of the Rigid Inflatable Boat roared to life as they raced down the water toward the buoys and the demarcation line between Poland and Kaliningrad.

The closer they got, the louder the gunfire became. Barton prayed that they would make it there in time.

Up ahead on the western shore of the lake, he could see the Polish side of the border crossing. He could only imagine what the officers there were thinking as the gun battle raged across the water from them.

“Time to turn out the lights, Mike,” said Barton, as he could see the buoy line rapidly approaching up ahead.

“Five seconds,” Haney replied.

And like clockwork, five seconds later there was a detonation at the electrical substation, followed by smaller detonations at the generators that provided backup power for the Polish border crossing.

At the buoys, Barton stopped only long enough to use a pair of bolt cutters to sever the line, before once again throwing the throttles all the way forward.

“Norseman,” Barton said over the radio. “We are inbound to you. Sixty seconds.”

•••

The soldiers, having zeroed in on the position of Harvath and the team, had discovered some semblance of discipline and were pushing in with a coordinated attack in order to flank them.

“We’re not going to have sixty seconds,” he replied over his radio. “We’re low on ammo and about to get overrun. Tossing out strobes. Hit them as hard as you can.”