Page 79 of Dead Fall

Harvath motioned for the team to move their plates and glasses. Once the table was clear, he spread out his map.

On it, he marked every location known to have been associated with the Ravens. He walked the men through everything he had learned.

“Let me get this straight,” said Krueger. “Up until three weeks ago, the Ravens were the ‘Murder, Inc.’ wing of the Wagner Group. Rape, murder, torture—the worst of the worst stuff we’ve been hearing about. Then, all of a sudden, they’re stealing the most precious works of art in the entire country. Works of art that have been very carefully and very quietly hidden. Do I have that about right?”

Harvath nodded.

“What happened three weeks ago that set them on this new and, presumably, highly lucrative path? Did Wagner HQ stumble onto some intel, pull these guys out of their combat role, and retask them?”

“I don’t think so,” Harvath replied.

“Why not?”

“First, nobody in their right mind would trust a group of criminals with that kind of assignment. Second, there’ve been rumors that Wagner lost contact with one of its units in Kharkiv Oblast. We think it was the Ravens.”

“Lost contact when?” Hookah asked.

“Just over three weeks ago.”

“Anything about where this unit was before it disappeared?”

“During the heavy fighting they were in this area,” said Harvath as he circled part of the map.

Hookah then pointed at a village due south and made eye contact with his teammates.

Harvath looked at him. “Do you know this area?”

“We were in that fight,” the man replied. “It was intense.”

“What happened in that village you just pointed to?”

“We came across a Russian unit that had been machine-gunned. Completely slaughtered. It was like they hadn’t even seen it coming. Most of their weapons still had the safeties engaged.”

“And that wasn’t all,” said Biscuit. “There was some bizarre trash left at the scene—almost like someonereallywanted it to look like Ukrainian soldiers had committed the attack. Pieces of yellow-and-blue tape that they use for armbands, empty Ukrainian cigarette and MRE packages—as if they had slaughtered the Russians and then had sat down for lunch and a smoke. It just felt weird.”

“Weirder still,” Jacks added, “the engagement hadn’t been reported up the chain. We were the first ones to call it in.”

“That is weird,” Harvath agreed. “What about the unit itself?”

“I think what we found most remarkable was how clean they were—their uniforms, their boots…”

“And especially their hands,” Krueger hopped in to clarify. “Softest hands I’ve ever seen. Those were not soldiers; at least, not all of them.”

“What do you mean ‘not all of them’?”

“The bodies of the guys who did manage to flick off their safeties and, who knows, maybe even got off a couple of shots—thoseguys had hands like soldiers. Rough, nicked up with cuts, and more than a couple of scars here and there.”

A security detail, Harvath thought to himself. “Anything else?”

“A couple were really pushing it age-wise. Lots of eyeglasses, too. One guy was even carrying a pipe,” Biscuit added. “We joked that the Russians must be so desperate that they had begun recruiting in libraries and faculty lounges.”

“Bottom line,” said Jacks, “they didn’t strike us as a combat unit.”

Harvath agreed. “What about vehicles?”

“There weren’t any. Whoever wiped them out had probably taken them.”

“Along with all the moving blankets, empty crates, and packing materials that were inside,” said Hookah.

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