“What’d you tell her?”
Burke shrugged. “I lied. Said we’re safe, that I’m where I want to be.”
Torres eyed him. “And if it all goes sideways… both theaters at once?” He thought of the classified briefs, the movement of Russian forces, the Chinese “training exercises” that looked more like invasion prep.
“I don’t know, Sergeant. I guess we’ll see what happens,” Burke finally replied.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the darkness. Somewhere to the south, a Ripsaw’s thermal camera detected movement and flagged it — another boar, according to the algorithm. But every alert tightened nerves already stretched thin.
Torres’ radio crackled softly. “All Assassin elements, this is Assassin Six. Be advised — Polish infantry platoon will be moving through approximately one klick to your front in the next twenty mikes. They’re conducting their own border patrol. Do not engage, they are friendlies. Acknowledge.”
“Assassin Six, Two-Seven copies all,” Torres acknowledged.
Twenty minutes later, Burke whispered, “There they are. Movement, bearing zero-seven-zero. About nine hundred meters.”
Torres tracked them through his thermal sight: a full platoon of Polish infantry moving in a tactical column as they advanced through wooded terrain. Their movement was purposeful but unhurried — a routine patrol, not a combat operation.
“Our allies are out earning their pay,” Burke observed quietly.
“Yeah, just like us.” Torres watched the Polish soldiers continue their patrol, disappearing and reappearing between the trees. Soon, they were just heat signatures again, then nothing. The forest returned to its empty vigil.
“You know what I’m thinking about?” Burke said after a long pause. “My kids’ summer vacation. Wife wants to take them to Disney. I told her I’d think about it.”
“Disney in July? You’re braver than I thought.” Torres allowed himself a smile. “Mine want to go camping in Colorado. Real camping, not this tactical bivouac nonsense.”
“Think we’ll make it back for summer?”
Torres considered the question. They’d been here six weeks already. The rhetoric from Moscow and Beijing came in waves — sometimes threatening, sometimes conciliatory. Meanwhile, soldiers on both sides sat in the woods, watching each other across invisible lines.
“Yeah, I think so. This feels like… posturing. Both sides are showing teeth, but nobody really wants to bite.” He adjusted his thermal sight, scanning the empty forest. “Few more weeks of this, some diplomatic breakthrough — everyone goes home with stories about that time we almost started World War Three.”
“Stories and without a combat patch,” Burke added.
“Yeah, I can live with that.” Torres thought about his kids, about mountain trails and campfires without tactical significance. “Besides, armies are expensive. Keeping us all out here, burning diesel, wearing out equipment — someone’s going to run the numbers and decide talking is cheaper than posturing.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear, Sarge.”
They settled back into silence, watching the darkness. Somewhere out there, Polish infantry continued their patrol. Farther east, Russian and Chinese forces probably sat in their own positions, having similar conversations. Everyone waiting, watching… hoping cooler heads would prevail.
Torres allowed himself to imagine it — flying home, hugging his kids, complaining about the heat at Disney World or the mosquitoes in Colorado. Normal problems. Peaceful problems.
“Three more hours until shift change,” he said finally.
“I can make it three more weeks if it means we all go home,” Burke replied.
“Roger that.” Torres continued his scan, but his mind was already halfway to summer vacation. Sometimes hope was all you had on a dark night in Poland, waiting for a war nobody really wanted.
Chapter Thirty-Four:
What Do You Know?
Besides the Tuta email account that Klara usually checked for messages from her handler, Viktor Mikhailov, there were certain times of day that she knew to check another account in the drafts folder. Many times, there was nothing there, but the message she had just opened was about to change everything for her.
“Crap,” she said aloud as soon as she realized the drafted message was from the Russian asset who’d been with the person who’d placed the explosive device on Gotland.
“I didn’t know this Chinese guy was bringing the GPS jammer and that other device with him,” he explained. “We weren’t supposed to implant the device until two days before the actual event. I was just putting down indelible chalk marks where we needed to place our equipment. When we had walked several miles away, I heard it go off and knew we had a big problem.”
Klara was absolutely freaking out at this point. She couldn’t even begin to think what to do.
“The Chinese guy is trying to pretend like nothing happened,” her asset continued. “He returned to his housing that I think you set up for him on Gotland.”
She cursed, fighting the urge to slam her fist into the wall.
“Your brothers are proceeding as normal, but if we are detected and there’s no way to escape, we plan to execute our operation, even though it’s early.”
Klara put her head in her hands. Years of planning and preparation had gone into the events of the upcoming weeks. She had been disciplined and careful. And now, if she didn’t play this just right, it could all be thrown away because of one impatient Chinese operative.
I have to find out what Lars knows, she realized. I need to see how bad this is.
Klara flirted with her boyfriend while he made dinner, walking behind him and giving him a hug, and then playfully whispering in his ear.
Lars smiled, turned to her and gave her a kiss. “Not yet, my love. My meal is going to be a masterpiece, and I’m almost done.”
“Oh, all right, spoilsport,” she teased. Klara plopped down in the living room to wait and turned on the news. They were talking about what was happening on Penghu in Asia.
Lars overheard the reporter. “You know, this is kind of a big deal,” he said. “No one knows what’s happening next. “There could be a shooting war between China and Taiwan.”
“That sounds very serious,” Klara remarked.
“It is…” His voice trailed off. “All right, enough of the news. Dinner is ready.”
He placed bowls of fish stew with root vegetables on the table, along with a pan of boiled new potatoes. Although she was definitely playing a role, Klara was grateful that her boyfriend was such an excellent cook.
“It smells amazing, thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as she sat down.
They hadn’t been eating long when Lars got a text message, and all the color drained from his face.
“What’s wrong?” Klara asked.
Am I blown? she wondered.
“Something terrible happened, an explosion of some kind,” Lars explained. “Three of my Home Guard friends were flown to the Visby Hospital. One of them just got out of a pretty major surgery. It’s not clear if he’s going to make it.”
She had never seen Lars quite this upset — he was practically shaking. “I’m going to visit,” he declared, standing.
Klara gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let me come with you,” she offered.