Page 74 of Shadow of Doubt

Harvath chuckled. “I think you give me too much credit. Inessa’s security team is going to be armed to the teeth. I don’t want to be sitting next to the only guy in a climate-controlled bar who’s sweating. Feel free to chalk it up to my healthy self-preservation instinct.”

“Fair enough.” Grechko smiled. “I know you’re not very fond of Russians.”

“I don’t have a problem with Russians, per se. What I have a problem with is the Russian government and the people who work for it.”

“As I no longer work for Moscow, where does that leave me?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to see.”

Raising his wineglass, Grechko clinked it against Harvath’s beer. “Here’s to seeing where things end up. For all of us.”

Several moments passed.

“So,” the Russian said, looking to make conversation. “You and Sølvi, eh? How’d that happen? Where’d you meet?”

“Listen,” Harvath replied. “A couple of moments ago, when I was nice, and I gave you a little encouragement? Don’t make me regret that. Okay?”

“Understood,” the man responded, taking another sip of his wine. “She’s a beautiful woman. Tough too. And smart as hell. I can see why you’re attracted to her. It must be hard, though, living in America with her in Norway. I would think that—”

Harvath raised his hand, ever so slightly off the bar—just enough toget Grechko’s attention—and said, “I now officially regret being nice to you.”

The man smiled. “You both have a similar sense of humor.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Fine. What about the dwarf? Tell me about him.”

“First,” Harvath replied, as his eyes scanned the room, “we don’t use that word with him. It’s considered an insult in English. He prefers to be called a little person.”

“But isn’t that his code name? His nom de guerre?”

“Close. People referred to him as the ‘Troll.’ Which, technically speaking, isn’t much better.”

“I apologize for the inaccuracy,” said Grechko. “How do you refer to him?”

“He goes by the name Nicholas.”

“Like the saint.”

“Exactly.”

“Interesting,” the man replied. “The wonder worker.”

Harvath hadn’t heard that description before.“Wonder worker?”

“In the Russian Orthodox Church, Saint Nicholas is a sort of supersaint. He’s known as a protector—especially of sailors, children, and the poor. He’s also known for his generosity. He’s renowned for secretly helping poor families by leaving out bags of gold. This is where the Santa Claus story comes from. Many Russian churches are named for him. He’s considered a one-stop shop when the faithful need a saint to pray to. From safe travels to healing the sick, he’s the guy.”

“Interesting,” Harvath stated.

“Why do you think your colleague chose this name?” Grechko asked.

Harvath knew why Nicholas had chosen the name, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell some supposedly “former” Russian intelligence official. Besides, it wasn’t his place to reveal it. That kind of personal information belonged to Nicholas. If he wanted to share it with this guy, that was up to him. And so Harvath simply shrugged in response.

“Perhaps it’s because Saint Nicholas was such a strong defender of the faith.”

“Sure,” Harvath stated, laughing to himself. “Let’s go with that. Nicholas, Defender of the Faith.”

“Are you a churchgoer, Mr. Harvath? Do you believe in God?”

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