Page 127 of Dead Fall

“Good. Good,” he stammered. “I was there to meet with the Paulsen family. They’ll back that up.”

Fields shot him a very icy look. “Why would you need them to back you up?”

“I, um, I don’t know. I assume we’re here to talk about Dimitri’s death, so anyone you’re talking to needs an alibi.”

Carolan smiled and removed a folder from his briefcase.

“We’re well beyond alibis, Senator,” said Fields as she leaned in. “We’re just here as a courtesy to assess how fucked you really are.”

“Wait. What?” Wilson replied. “I don’t like this. I think we need to stop.”

“Your friend told us that you would say that.”

“My friend?”

Carolan pulled a photo out of his folder and held it up for Wilson to see. In it, Joe Nistal was in a hospital bed, flanked by the two FBI agents who now stood in Wilson’s office. In his hands, whether it was photoshopped or not, Nistal held a piece of paper with the wordsWe’re fucked. Don’t be stupid. Cooperate,written on it.

“Senator Wilson,” Carolan asked, “did you know that Joe Nistal is an agent of the Russian government?”

“I, uh. No, I didn’t know.”

“Well, did you know that he was amassing tracking devices in his storage unit in Frederick, Maryland, which he subsequently placed, or caused to be placed, on multiple FBI vehicles?”

“Of course not. I had no idea.”

Fields looked right at him. “Did you know that he had Dimitri Burman thrown to his death off his terrace and that he used you to further a conspiracy about the Commodore Yacht Club?”

Wilson was visibly shaken. “Of course not,” he replied, fearful of what was coming next. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Senator Wilson,” said Carolan, “you have the right to remain silent.”

CHAPTER 38

TUESDAY

Harvath had learned his lesson the hard way. From the moment the GUR agents had met him at the station in Kyiv to take him to Nicholas until he had crossed the border back into Poland, he had kept his phone off just in case the Russians were targeting unusual encryption apps.

It turned out to be doubly smart, since the overnight train he was riding on also included the Ukrainian President.

When his people learned that Harvath was on board, they invited him to have dinner with the President. They were also able to present him with his medal.

Harvath accepted their kind hospitality and their grateful accolades with humility. Truth be told, he had never been comfortable with praise of any kind. It wasn’t why he did what he did.

After dinner and a short ceremony, he reluctantly agreed to join the President for cigars in his private compartment. While not a soldier, the man was a leader of soldiers and was eager to learn from Harvath’s experience.

Though Harvath tried to dissuade the man from a full and unvarnished debrief, the President had insisted. And so, pulling out all the stops, Harvath had given it to him.

The two men stayed up all night talking. Most of it wasn’t pretty. Yet the pair pressed on. Harvath gave him the truth, exactly as he hadobserved it. Then, when the President asked for his opinion, Harvath didn’t hold back.

This was war. Freedom was at stake and the Ukrainian people wanted nothing more than the ability to preserve their sovereignty and decide their own future.

When the train quietly rolled across the Polish border and pulled into the station the next morning, passengers were told to remain in their cabins.

Harvath knew why. It was for security purposes. It was to allow the Ukrainian President to disembark first and head off to wherever in the world he was going in order to make the case for Ukraine.

Then there was a knock on Harvath’s door.

Before he could respond, an exceedingly fit protective agent slid the door open, peered inside, and stood back.

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