State Of The Union

“I thought he was trying to kill you too,” answered Scot, turning back to Herman and continuing their conversation, “until I saw Überhof coming up behind you.”

“Thank God, Gary saw him or we’d both be dead now.”

Harvath just nodded his head as he reflected on what the past couple of days must have been like for Gary. The doctors said it was a wonder he was still alive at all. No one could understand how he had survived. No one, except for Scot Harvath. Gary was a fighter, a survivor. It was something they shared in common.

“What about our other guys?” asked Herman, trying to respect Harvath’s silence, but wanting to connect some of the dots. “The ones that got away. Who do you think they are?”

Herman brought Scot’s attention back to the present. “Taking into consideration that the bullet pulled out of Gary was a 7.62 Soviet M30, along with the VIP access to the Russian Embassy these guys had, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the possibility that they are of Norwegian descent.”

“You think the Russians are involved?” asked Herman. “What possible connection there could be between terrorists targeting the United States and the Russian Federation?”

“A bigger connection than you may think.”

“You’re joking, right? When you said you were dealing with terrorists, in this day and age I automatically assumed you were talking about Islamic terrorists. Now you’re saying the Russian Federation is behind the threat against America?”

“Herman, we have very little to go on here.”

“All of a sudden, I don’t think so. We have Karl Überhof-a deceased German national obviously schooled in tradecraft who was able to take out a highly trained MEK operative, and our Soviet ammunition-firing tunnel rat who scampered away with a friend up into the Russian embassy. I want you to look me in the face and tell me that you don’t see any connection.”

Harvath set his chair back down on the ground and looked directly at Herman. It was time he told him the whole truth. “Several days ago, we discovered an enhanced suitcase nuke just outside one of our major cities.”

Herman was shocked and it took him several moments to compose himself. “What do you mean byenhanced?” he finally asked.

“Capable of a much larger yield than is normally associated with man-portable nuclear devices.”

“My God,” said Herman. “And this is what the terrorists have planned?”

“At this point we are confirming nineteen out of a possible twenty-five devices inside the United States.”

“And the balance may be in cities of America’s Western allies?”

“Yes.”

“Where’d these devices come from?”

“Where do you think?” replied Harvath.

“Russia?”

“Bingo.”

“But I don’t understand,” said Herman, leaning forward in his chair toward Harvath. “What about mutually assured destruction?”

“Suffice it to say, the Russians have found a way around that.”

“How is that possible?”

“They have developed some sort of air defense system that is impregnable.”

“And now what? They want to take over the United States?”

“Just about. They want us off the world stage so they can fill the void and be the world’s predominant superpower.”

Herman was floored. It was all too much. He had watched the Berlin Wall fall. In fact, he had even been there. He and several of his teammates had traveled to Berlin with sledgehammers and had spent hours cracking away at the enormous barrier, handing out pieces to anyone who wanted them. He had watched as people streamed across the no-man’s-land known as thedeath strip to be reunited with friends and loved ones in the West. Then the Soviet Union itself came tumbling down. At the time, it had all seemed beyond belief, but everyone had eventually gotten used to it. But what Harvath was telling him now, was absolutely beyond comprehension. “Is there more?” he asked, stunned.

“There’s Gary’s involvement and how he fits into hopefully stopping this from happening, but that has to remain classified,” said Harvath.

Both of the men sat back in their chairs, staring off into separate directions.

After several minutes, it was Herman who broke the silence. “What’s the timetable?”

“The deadline is the president’s State of the Union address in six days.”

“And you’re sure the Russian government is behind this?”

Harvath broke off from what he was staring at and said, “If it weren’t for the air defense system, we might have our doubts, but there’s enough evidence pointing to the people at the top. They claim they know nothing about what’s going on, but we believe otherwise.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Herman.

Harvath was about to answer, when he noticed one of the admitting nurses walking in their direction.

“Herr Harvath?” she asked in German as she approached the two men who immediately stood up.

“Ich bin Herr Harvath,” replied Scot, wondering why it wasn’t one of the operating room staff coming out to give him an update on Gary’s condition. Suddenly, he had a bad feeling.

“Es tut mir leid, Sie damit zu belästige-,” the nurse began.

“I’m sorry,” said Harvath. “Sprechen Sie Englisch bitte?”

“Yes, I speak English.”