Page 71 of Dead Fall

“I didn’t find it. I made it.”

“Youmadepaint?”

Harvath nodded. “After demolition, the most important instruction at Special Services Group is art class. You should see my sculptures.”

Givi laughed and they headed out.

Driving across the bridge, neither man said a word until they got to the other side. Then it was Harvath who broke the silence. “Like I said, totally safe.”

“I never doubted it,” Givi responded, peering through his night-vision device. “Third gear, please.”

Harvath helped shift and soon enough they had left the bridge and the village behind. They were in the open countryside. As the road straightened out, Givi asked Harvath to shift into fourth, the UAZ’s highest gear. Once that was complete, his assistance would not be needed for a while.

Using the red beam feature on his flashlight, Harvath followed along on a map Givi had taken off one of the dead Russians. Only the bridge had been marked. Other than that, there was no useful Russian intelligence on it.

During daylight hours, the drive would have taken about a half hour. Driving under low-light conditions, however, especially once they got into the windy portions in the hills, meant the trip would take almost an hour. Harvath had slung his rifle in front of him, at the ready.

Givi didn’t mind small talk and so Harvath engaged the man. He had a wife and three kids back home in western Ukraine. He was a truck driver by profession. The day the Russians invaded, he enlisted.

He had requested to be placed as close to the front as possible. The soldiers going toe-to-toe with the Russians were the ones he wanted to support. He had never been in a dismounted firefight until this afternoon. It was the first time he had ever fired his personal weapon in combat.

“How did it feel?” Harvath asked him.

The Ukrainian answered honestly, “Terrifying.”

“It gets easier.”

“I don’t know that I want it to. Shooting other human beings, even Russians, should always be difficult. It shouldn’t be like a video game.You should have to think about what you’re doing. You should have to weigh every life you take.”

It was a deep, rather philosophical statement, especially coming from a truck driver who admitted to having dropped out of school before the seventh grade. But while traits like morality, dignity, and integrity could be incubated in a classroom, they weren’t dependent upon how many years you spent in one. Life offered plenty of experiences through which a person could develop their character. Harvath could only imagine how much Givi, as an over-the-road trucker, had seen.

They continued to make small talk until they reached the hills. At that point, the Ukrainian needed to fully focus. Not only were the roads tricky, but the occasional remains of ruined military vehicles were a reminder that they were getting ever closer to the front. Harvath kept his weapon tight to his chest.

Fifteen minutes into the hills, he saw a flash of light up ahead. “What was that?”

Givi brought the UAZ to a stop and peered through the night-vision device. “Looks like a checkpoint.”

“Ukrainian?”

“I can’t tell.”

Using his red light to illuminate the map, Harvath pointed at it and said, “This is where we are. According to what we were told, there isn’t a checkpoint until here, in ten klicks.”

“It could be Russians. They have been known to set up fake checkpoints. Sometimes it’s to interdict troops or supplies. Other times to collect intelligence. Sometimes both.”

“Call it in. Let’s see if we can verify what’s going on.”

Givi picked up his radio and tried to reach the element expecting them up at the front. No matter how many times he tried, nor how he angled the radio’s antenna out the window, all he could hear was static.

“Bad terrain,” he said. “I can’t get a clear signal. What do you want to do?”

Explaining his plan, Harvath traced the road in front of them with his finger and picked the spot he wanted to be dropped. Givi nodded and got the UAZ moving.

Four minutes later, the two vehicles blocking the road ahead of him flipped on their high beams and a pair of soldiers ordered him to stop and exit his vehicle without his weapon. The Ukrainian did as he was ordered.

When the soldiers got close enough, the first thing he noticed was that they were wearing the same uniform he was. While one kept him covered, the other went to investigate his UAZ. Holding his hand up against the glare of the headlights, he could make out at least four other figures, all holding rifles, spaced a good distance apart from each other.

“Who else are you traveling with?” the soldier asked.

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