Page 100 of Spymaster

Standing, Harvath reached behind the nearest sheet and Vella handed him a small bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he walked over to Kuznetsov, placed the bottle against his mouth, and tilted it back so he could drink. The man drank the entire thing.

Harvath set the empty bottle on the table and sat back down.

“Several hours ago, they let me piss. There was blood in it. I need to be taken to a hospital.”

“Tell me what you know about the attacks,” Harvath demanded.

“No,” said the Russian. “First we make our deal. Then we talk about everything else I know.”

“What is it that you want?”

“I want my family out of Russia,” the man said.

“How many are in your family?”

“Nine.”

“Nine?”

“Nine,” Kuznetsov repeated.

Standing again, Harvath walked over, parted the sheets, and requested a pad and pen from Vella.

When he sat back down, he said, “Give me their names, ages, and relationship to you.”

The Russian operative had a wife and four children. He listed their names and ages. The other four family members were his parents and his wife’s mother and father.

Harvath held up his hand. “I can only negotiate in regard to your immediate family.”

“Our parents must leave Russia as well. I cannot allow them to be punished for what I have done.”

Harvath tapped his pen against the pad of paper for several moments as he pretended to think about it. “I will see what I can do, but it will depend on how helpful you are to me. With each minute that passes, the information you have becomes less valuable, and my people will be less willing to make a deal.”

Kuznetsov smiled. “Really? I think it is just the opposite. With every minute that passes, my information is more valuable and your people should be more eager to make a deal. Time is a very precious commodity.”

“Like I said. I will see what I can do. In the meantime—”

“In the meantime,” the Russian interrupted, “I would like something for this pain. And while I am waiting for that, you can contact your people to confirm that you will be getting my entire family out of Russia.”

“Nine people,” said Harvath. “That’s not going to be easy.”

“I’m sure the all-powerful American government can find a way.”

“I will ask, though I cannot promise where you all will be relocated to.”

“Italy,” said Kuznetsov. “That’s where we want to be placed. Florence.”

Harvath was tempted to ask him why Italy and why Florence, but the truth was that he didn’t really care. It also wasn’t up to him.

“I cannot speak for the Italian government, but I can put in a request to my government to speak with the Italians on your behalf. That is, of course, if what you have to tell me is worth all of the trouble and all the expense of doing all of this.”

Kuznetsov smiled. “It will be. Trust me.”

Harvath smiled back. “What’s the old Russian saying? Trust but verify. You’re going to have to give me something I can give my people to convince them.”

The Russian paused, considering how much to reveal in order to secure this deal for himself and his family. Finally, he looked at him and said, “The man you are looking for is Colonel Oleg Tretyakov. Chief of GRU Covert Operations for Eastern Europe.”

“What about him?” asked Harvath.

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