State Of The Union

“Good,” replied Harvath, who then got up and signaled that he was going to take a look at the rest of the hallway.

Pipes of varying sizes were suspended from the ceiling and appeared to run the length of the tunnel. Like most of the bunkers and fallout shelters he had seen during his career, Harvath correctly assumed that the pipes were used to channel various utilities throughout the underground complex.

He came upon several more rooms, all more or less in varying states of neglect and disarray. It was hard to tell what sort of function they may have once served. All that mattered was that they were presently devoid of other human beings.

At the end of the hallway, Harvath was stopped dead in his tracks by another blast door with a red sign markedBetriebsraum, which was framed by two lightening bolts. Though Harvath had no idea what the word meant in German, he figured it was probably a mechanical room of some sort. Looking up, he saw that all of the utility pipes fed through the solid rock above the door and into whatever room lay on the other side. He tried spinning the large crank handle on the outside of the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Even when he tucked his H amp;K under his arm and ignored the searing pain in his side as he tried with both hands, nothing happened.

Harvath decided to forget the door and quickly made his way back up the tunnel to where Herman was still listening against the bulkhead door.

“Anything new?” he asked, taking up a position next to Toffle.

“I think there’s somebody else in the room with them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because, they’re speaking English now.”

“Is it Gary?”

“I can only hear what sounds like questions. I thought I heard somebody responding, but now, there’s nothing. What do you want to do?” asked Herman, as he backed away from the door.

“You know what I want to do,” said Harvath, pulling two flashbang grenades from his coat pocket. “Are you ready?”

Herman Toffle patted his injured leg, the same leg that had forced him into early retirement from his beloved GSG9 position and responded, “I’ve been ready for this for a long time.”

Chapter 26

The powerful man circled Gary Lawlor’s chair like a bull zeroing in on an injured matador. He hadn’t introduced himself when he entered the bunker, and he didn’t need to. Though very much the worse for wear, Lawlor was still with it enough to know who the man was. Someone from the Russian Military High Command, especially someone like General Sergei Stavropol, was a person whose reputation preceded him.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” said Stavropol.

“It was only a matter of time before someone from Mother Russia showed up,” mumbled Lawlor, his cracked and swollen lips revealing a mouth full of broken and damaged teeth. “I’m just surprised at the poor level of help you are hiring to do your dirty work these days.”

“Helmut took a personal interest in your case. He can be very persuasive, but he doesn’t seem to be having that effect on you. Not to worry, though, I’m here now and I’m sure the two of us are going to get along just fine.”

Lawlor laughed. It was a dry, hacking cackle, the best he was capable of, but he choked it out nonetheless.

“You’re laughing. You don’t think I’m serious?” asked Stavropol.

“You may be serious, but you won’t be successful,” spat Lawlor between his laughs, which turned into a fit of coughing.

“You don’t sound so good. You may have aspirated some of your own blood. Or maybe you have a punctured lung? Have they been a bit rough on you?”

The understatement caused Lawlor to begin laughing again, which in his condition invariably led to another coughing fit.

“You need to relax. You’ll cough yourself to death, and that wouldn’t be good. Not at least until we’ve had a chance to talk.”

“I’ve got a manicure in a half hour, so let’s get on with it,” rasped Lawlor.

“Very funny. You like to joke, don’t you?” asked the Stavropol. “You like to have a good time?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Judging by some of the photographs I have, I guess it is.”

Photographs, wondered Lawlor.What the hell is he talking about?

“I assume you’d like to see them?” said Stavropol.

“I already have naked pictures of your wife,” replied Lawlor.

“Actually, these are pictures of your wife. Though she’s not naked, I thought you would appreciate some of the final surveillance photos that were taken of you both before her tragic accident.”

“Accident,” repeated Lawlor, the bile rising in his throat. “Fuck you.”

“So that means,no? You don’t wish to see the photos? That’s a shame. We were actually quite proud of that operation. But, it’s all water under the bridge, I can understand that-”

“Not water under the bridge. Now that I know you were involved, I am going to kill you too.”

“Me?” asked Stavropol, feigning surprise. “Considering your current situation, that would really be something to see.”

“First Draegar and then you,” hissed Lawlor.

“All in due time.”

“I promise you it will come.”