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Harvath was just about to tell Herman he wasn’t helping, when he got that ping in his head again and this time it shook something loose. “Take 68 and subtract Leighton’s 0712, plus today’s date,” he said to DeWolfe.
“But what’s 68?” asked the communications expert.
“Just do it.
Harvath was sitting literally on the edge of his seat until DeWolfe looked up with a smile and turning the transmitter toward him said, “We’re in.”
“We are?” said Herman, setting down his the materials he was looking at and walking over to the desk. “Where the hell did the number68 come from?”
“Don’t ask me,” said DeWolfe. “Ask Harvath. He finally figured out the code.”
With his eyes glued on the burst transmitter, Scot replied, “When we were driving back to the hospital, DeWolfe and I were talking about how burst codes needed to be easy to remember. That made me think about Patton and how he said that when he wanted his men to remember something and really make it stick, he used eloquent profanity. Sometimes, so did Gary. You just reminded me of an old joke of his that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.What’s a 68? It’s like a 69, except you do me and I owe you one.”
“Are you sure Gary wasn’t a SEAL?” laughed DeWolfe. “How much time do we have left?”
“Three minutes.”
“Then you’d better get cracking on your message. Take the stylus and tap the icon for the keyboard. When it comes up, type it out just like we talked about and put it into thewaiting to be sent folder. When it’s time to burst, you just tap the send icon. Okay?”
“Seems easy enough,” answered Harvath who wrote out the message as quickly and as succinctly as he could.
Less than three minutes later, Frau Putzkammer’s telephone rang. Herman and DeWolfe were completely silent as Harvath picked up the receiver and said, “This is Norseman.”
After a second of what could only have been shocked silence, Leighton said. “So you made it.”
“I told you I was for real.”
“That may be, but you’re not home free yet.”
“And neither are you. Are you ready to receive my transmission?” asked Harvath.
1200 kilometers away in the Gulf of Finland, Leighton checked his burst transmitter and said, “Go ahead.”
As the message appeared on his screen, Leighton was stu
Your mission has been compromised. Entire Dark Night team terminated. Gary Lawlor seriously wounded. Prognosis unclear.
Mission parameters now changed. We are coming to you. Will explain at your location. Hold position and exercise extreme caution. You are being watched.
The entire team has been terminated? They think I’m being watched?Though a million other questions were racing through Frank Leighton’s mind, he knew he would have to wait to get his answers and so typed a concise and professional reply:
Message received and understood. Will continue to hold position. What is your ETA?
Harvath read through Leighton’s response and typed:
Within next twenty-four hours. Keep all weapons on safe. We will be making covert insertion and don’t want any friendly fire. Leave package in place until our arrival. Be ready to move.
As Harvath was about to tap thesend icon with his stylus, the lights dimmed and then went out, plunging the room into complete darkness.
“What the hell is going on?” asked DeWolfe.
“Maybe too many vibrators recharging at the same time,” replied Herman.
“Very fu
“It should. Go to the star logo in the upper left hand corner and click on it, then selectsettings and there should be abacklight function box. Selectyes and it should fire right up.”
Harvath followed DeWolfe’s instructions and the screen began to glow a deep red. It was an interesting color for a device masquerading as a civilian product, but made perfect sense for a piece of covert equipment that might be called upon to operate in difficult nighttime conditions where the least visible light spectrum would be required.
“Got it,” said Harvath, who, after tapping the screen several more times added, “Shit!”
“What’s going on?” asked DeWolfe.
“I’m getting a message that saysno carrier,” replied Harvath as he started saying into the phone’s mouthpiece, “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?”
“No carrier?” continued DeWolfe. “That could only mean that-”
“The phone line’s dead,” said Herman as he withdrew his twin Beretta Stock 96’s from beneath his jacket.
“Jesus Christ,” exclaimed DeWolfe when he saw the weapons. “Who walks around with that kind of firepower?”
“Welcome to the Federal Republic of Germany,” answered Harvath, disco
“Forget about my cousins,” said Herman as Harvath picked up the receiver and listened for a dial tone. “What’s the situation with the phone?”
“Dead,” he replied. “So the problem appears to be on our end.”
“Coupled with a convenient loss of electricity. I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I,” said Harvath, removing the H amp;K from his BlackHawk tactical holster. “Either a car outside happened to ram the local power and telephone poles, or we’ve got a problem.”
“This part of Berlin doesn’t have power or telephone poles,” replied Herman. “Everything is underground.”
“Then we’ve got a problem,” said DeWolfe, the last to draw his own weapon, a “special order only” Beretta Model 93R.
“Talk about firepower,” quipped Harvath, eyeballing the extended twenty-round magazine of the handgun cum machine pistol, as DeWolfe flipped down the front grip and then switched the firing selector to three round bursts. “Where’d you get that thing?”
“I’ve got a good friend at Beretta and a healthy weapons allowance.”
“Like I said. When it comes to funding, you CIA guys aren’t hurting at all.”
Harvath tucked the burst transmitter into the back of his jeans and led the group out of the office. Cutting back through the living room of the penthouse, they found Nixie who showed them to another of the King George’s hidden features, a concealed stairwell. With the power out, the elevator was out of the question.
They were halfway to the ground floor when they heard the shots. Hurriedly, the group took the stairs as fast as they could. As they drew closer to the lobby and the shooting intensified, Harvath began to sense a whole new problem. Toffle, who had taken over the lead despite his bad leg, was picking up a good head of steam and dashed down the stairs two at a time. He seemed hell bent on charging through the lobby door, but something wasn’t right and Harvath yelled for him to stop.
Confused, Herman pulled up short and turned around to look at him as he came ru
“Can’t you feel it?” replied Harvath.
“Feel what?”
“The air in here. It’s grown thi
“And hotter,” said DeWolfe as he joined his colleagues at the bottom of the landing.
Herman scowled. “We’re wasting time.”
Nixie sniffed the air a moment and added, “And what’s that smell?”
The minute she pointed it out, Harvath knew what it was-accelerant. Pushing his way past Toffle, Harvath reached out his hand and gently placed it against the stairwell door.
Immediately, he snatched his hand back away from the heat and said, “There’s a fire on the other side of this door.”
“Oh my God,” replied Nixie. “We have to get everyone out.”
“First things first,” replied Herman, raising his weapons. “Kiefer and Verner may be in trouble.”
“We all might be in trouble. Let’s be smart about this,” responded Harvath, as he tugged the sleeve of his leather jacket over his hand so he could pull the door open. “Everybody back up. When I count to three, I’m going to slowly open the door. Ready?”