Nicholas cleared the dishes as Harvath watched her. He was pleased to see her so worked up, so passionate. If she could control that, channel it, she might just exceed his expectations.
It took Jasinski a moment to process everything. Finally, she turned and asked, “How did you know about Norway?”
“The equipment we keep hidden in those caves needs to be serviced,” he replied. “As part of our agreement with Norway, we hire Norwegians to do it. Whoever works in the caves has to have a background check. And because of the importance of that equipment, we routinely review the personnel files, as do our counterparts in Norwegian intelligence.
“Two weeks ago, there was a red flag and an investigation was opened. That investigation uncovered a plot to bomb the caves and destroy the equipment. When we learned that the saboteurs were all going to be at the cabin, the decision was made to move in and capture them. Obviously, everyone wishes there had been more time for reconnaissance.”
“Obviously,” said Jasinski. “What’s also obvious is that you took Sergun’s rumor seriously.”
“Only when the attack in Lisbon happened, then our antennas went up. Then once the attack in Madrid took place, we had a high level of confidence that we knew what was happening.”
“A confidence that you never shared with NATO. In fact, you didn’t do anything until your equipment was targeted.”
“Wrong,” corrected Harvath. “We looped in the Supreme Allied Commander from the start.”
That was a piece of the puzzle she hadn’t been aware of. “Then why didn’t he do something?”
“Communiqués were sent to all NATO personnel after the first attack. Everyone was warned. You know that.”
“But the communiqués didn’t contain all of the information. I saw them. None of us knew what you knew.”
Harvath shook his head. “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“You don’t know that,” she pushed back.
Harvath could see the deaths weighing on her.
“Maybe the diplomats wouldn’t have been able to do anything with it,” she pressed, “but on the intelligence side, it could have helped the investigation. Maybe I could have done something with it.”
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Maybe. But we couldn’t risk it.”
“Why not?”
“Because NATO is shot through with Russian spies,” said Harvath. “It has been since the beginning. That’s its greatest weakness. It’s like Swiss fucking cheese. For every Russian you uncover, there are two more hiding somewhere else. We couldn’t risk their learning what we know.”
Monika looked at him defiantly. “How do you know I’m not a spy?” she demanded.
“To be honest, I don’t.”
She glared at him. “Then why am I here?”
It was a fair question, but one that he wasn’t going to answer—at least not fully, and certainly not yet. “Because the powers that be want my team working with someone from SHAPE,” he said. “And that someone is you.”
“What powers that be? The Defense Intelligence Agency? The Central Intelligence Agency? Who do you work for? And don’t tell me again that you were sent by SACT. You don’t work for NATO. And him,” she added, pointing at Nicholas. “He definitely doesn’t work for NATO.”
Though Harvath had no idea why, he glanced at his little friend. For his part, Nicholas simply shrugged as he set down three dessert plates, each with a piece of Makowiec—a traditional Polish poppy seed pastry cake, normally served at the holidays. He knew well enough to stay out of this. Harvath was on his own.
“Our job is to represent the interests of the United States government,” Harvath stated.
“So which interests would those be?” she asked.
He thought for a moment. “Anything related to the North Atlantic Treaty.”
He was still lying. She could sense it and pressed further. “What’s your objective?”
This time, there wasn’t a pause. Harvath replied immediately. “Per the treaty, to promote stability and well-being in the North Atlantic area.”
“How, precisely?”
“By doing everything in our power to prevent an Article 5,” he stated. “To make absolutely certain that the United States and its armed forces aren’t dragged into war, any war—no matter what it takes.”
At that moment, everything clicked for her.
CHAPTER 16
* * *
Jasinski was intimately familiar with Article 5. She could practically recite it by heart. It was the cornerstone of the NATO treaty:
The Parties agree that an armed attack against one or more of them in Europe or North America shall be considered an attack against them all and consequently they agree that, if such an armed attack occurs, each of them, in exercise of the right of individual or collective self-defence recognised by Article 51 of the Charter of the United Nations, will assist the Party or Parties so attacked by taking forthwith, individually and in concert with the other Parties, such action as it deems necessary, including the use of armed force, to restore and maintain the security of the North Atlantic area.
She had been wrong about Harvath and his involvement. This wasn’t simply about American military equipment. This was about the American military.
Out of twenty-nine NATO countries, only six—the United States, the United Kingdom, Greece, Romania, Poland, and Estonia—were annually expending their required 2 percent of GDP on defense.
In light of what she now knew about Russia, it was no wonder the United States had been so angry about the other twenty-three members’ not living up to their military spending agreements. That went double for Lithuania and Latvia, two of the three Baltic countries, which were sitting right on Russia’s doorstep.
America’s debt was in the tens of trillions of dollars and had exploded since the September 11 attacks. Its annual deficits were also out of control. Its budgets showed no signs of balancing. Would the United States willingly incur even more debt to go to war in the Baltics? After nearly two decades in Afghanistan, eight years in Iraq, and multiple years spent chasing ISIS in Syria, would Americans agree to expend additional blood and treasure to defend the tiny Baltic countries of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia? Could a majority of Americans even find those nations on a map? Or, had Americans had enough?
And what about Poland? she thought. Poland was an exceptional partner to the United States. It had met its NATO spending requirements and was a staunch U.S. ally. But if Poland were attacked, would Americans see it as far away and inconsequential as the other Baltic nations? Would the United States honor its commitments and come to Poland’s defense?
Jasinski wanted to believe America would, but if she had to be honest, she wasn’t 100 percent sure. She was even less sure about the United States defending the Baltics.
Though she hated to think it, she could envision a scenario in which America sat things out.
Via fake news and information warfare, she could imagine a fervor being whipped up where Americans might be swayed to believe it was better to let nations like Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia fall, rather than have the U.S. go to war with Russia on their behalf.