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GRU is holding.”

“So my only real chance is right now,” Vetrov said. He rolled over all of a sudden, a silenced Glock pistol in his left hand.

“I guess I can’t blame you,” McGarvey said, and he pulled the trigger, emptying the entire forty-round magazine of 4.6×30mm rounds into the man’s chest, neck, and head.

“Too bad,” he said half to himself as Pete and Alicia both came running. “But it’s late, and I’m tired of people gunning for me and my people, and I just didn’t feel like seeing what you could do in hand-to-hand. So, fuck you, comrade.”

EPILOGUE

As Dr. Franklin explained it ten days later, McGarvey’s below-the-knee plastic leg was headed for the trash bin, which would effectively put him out of commission for six to eight weeks.

“After what you’ve been through, you need some time off, though it won’t be much of a vacation,” the doctor said at a meeting at All Saints. “In any event, you should retire, go back to Sarasota, and take up teaching again.”

McGarvey was seated across from Franklin in the third-floor waiting room, the only space in the hospital large enough to accommodate him, plus Pete, Otto, and Mary, who’d insisted they be present for the pre-op pep talk, as Pete called it.

“Good luck with that,” Mary said.

“Amen,” Otto agreed.

Pete was holding her husband’s hand. “We got the gist of what you want to do, but why the long recovery period?” she asked.

“He’s going to have to learn to walk all over again before he can get back to running around the world shooting at people.”

“Only people who shoot at me first,” McGarvey said.

“Don’t be a curmudgeon,” Pete said. “Go on, Doctor.”

“We’re making him a new leg—actually, with technology that Otto suggested. The bone structure, for want of a better term, will be made of titanium, over which we’ll attach bundles of carbon fiber interlaced with near microscopic strands of a gold-carbon fiber material that conduct electricity. The bundles will be shaped to mimic the natural muscles of a leg, ankle, and foot and will be grafted to the nerve endings in the stump of Mac’s real limb.”

“What’s the catch?” McGarvey asked.

“You’ll think, bend your knee, but it’ll take some practice—a lot of practice—before your new leg will understand what’s being transmitted to it. When the carbon fiber bundles get educated, and the command comes down the pike, the bundles will contract, and your leg will bend. But that’ll be the easy part. Learning to walk, to run, to crouch down and then jump, to climb a ladder, to swim, and do every other movement that we pretty much take for granted after the age of two will have to be relearned.”

“When do we start?” McGarvey asked. He wanted to get it over with so he could finish what had been started in Georgetown.

“MIT is sending down your leg sometime next week, and we’ll have to run a series of tests before the actual operation. Say ten days from now?”

“Good,” McGarvey said.

Franklin got up, shook their hands, and left.

Pete got up, too, but McGarvey didn’t move, and she sat back down. “What?” she asked.

“It’s not over.”

“They were Spetsnaz, and they lost,” Pete said. “Bender’s funeral was three days ago, and Alicia was reprimanded but given the Bureau’s Medal for Meritorious Service—their second highest.”

“General Kanayev retired, and his son-in-law committed suicide,” Otto said. “Case closed, and you’re getting a new leg.”

“Thanks to you,” McGarvey said.

Mary had been watching him. “But it’s not closed, is it?” she said.

“Hammond.”

“No chain of evidence actually connecting him with anything,” Otto said.

“I’ll find it.”

Pete was exasperated. “For Christ’s sake, darling, give it up,” she said. “We won, they lost. Period, end of statement.”

“We lost Serifos. ETII”—the Greek national intelligence service—“convinced the government to seize the lighthouse and ban us from ever returning.”

“We’ll get another island,” Pete said. “Anyway, they paid us the fair market value.”

“Small potatoes,” Otto said quietly. “All that shit is superfluous. The main thing is the leak here in the States. The White House, the Pentagon, somewhere.”

“They won’t stop until I find them,” McGarvey said.

“We find them,” Pete said. “All of us.”

ALSO BY DAVID HAGBERG

Twister

The Capsule

Last Come the Children

Heartland

Heroes

Without Honor*

Countdown*

Crossfire*

Critical Mass*

Desert Fire

High Flight*

Assassin*

White House*

Joshua’s Hammer*

Eden’s Gate

The Kill Zone*

By Dawn’s Early Light

Soldier of God*

Allah’s Scorpion*

Dance with the Dragon*

The Expediter*

The Cabal*

Abyss*

Castro’s Daughter*

Burned

Blood Pact*

Retribution*

The Shadowmen*+

The Fourth Horseman

24 Hours*+

End Game*

Tower Down*

Flash Points*

Face Off*

First Kill*

McGarvey*

Gambit*

WRITING AS SEAN FLANNERY

The Kremlin Conspiracy‡§

Eagles Fly

The Trinity Factor

The Hollow Men

False Prophets‡

Broken Idols‡

Gulag

Moscow Crossing

The Zebra Network

Crossed Swords

Moving Targets

Winner Take All

Kilo Option

Achilles’ Heel

WITH U.S. SENATOR BYRON DORGAN

Blowout

Gridlock

WITH LAWRENCE LIGHT

Crash

NONFICTION WITH BORIS GINDEN

Mutiny!

*Kirk McGarvey adventure

+Kirk McGarvey ebook original novellas

‡Edgar Allan Poe Award nominee

§American Book Award nominee

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DAVID HAGBERG (1947–2019) was a New York Times bestselling author who published numerous novels of suspense, including his bestselling thrillers featuring former CIA director Kirk McGarvey, such as Flash Points, Face Off, and First Kill. He earned a nomination for the American Book Award, three nominations for the Mystery Writers of America Edgar Allan Poe Award, and won three Mystery Scene Best American Mystery Awards. He spent more than thirty years researching and studying U.S.-Soviet relations during the Cold War. Hagberg joined the U.S. Air Force out of high school, and during the height of the Cold War, he served as a U.S. Air Force cryptographer. You can sign up for email updates here.

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CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Epigraph

Part One: Opening Moves

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Part Two: Middle Game

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Thirty-Nine

Forty

Forty-One

Forty-Two

Forty-Three

Forty-Four

Forty-Five

Forty-Six

Forty-Seven

Forty-Eight

Forty-Nine

Part Three: Endgame

Fifty

Fifty-One

Fifty-Two

Fifty-Three

Fifty-Four

Fifty-Five

Fifty-Six

Fifty-Seven

Fifty-Eight

Fifty-Nine

Sixty

Sixty-One

Sixty-Two

Sixty-Three

Sixty-Four

Sixty-Five

Sixty-Six

Sixty-Seven

Sixty-Eight

Sixty-Nine

Seventy

Seventy-One

Seventy-Two

Seventy-Three

Epilogue

Also By David Hagberg

About the Author

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

GAMBIT

Copyright © 2021 by Kevin Hagberg

All rights reserved.

Cover art by Paul Youll

A Forge Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates

120 Broadway

New York, NY 10271

www.tor-forge.com

Forge® is a

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