Dead Fall (Scot Harvath #22)

by Brad Thor

There is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of others. —NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI

She often thought of one of the quotes her sixth-grade teacher in Chicago had taped to the wall behind her desk. It was from Winston Churchill. “Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.”

Caucasian Ovcharkas—Argos

In Belarus, he had read a great thriller called Wolf Trap by an author named Connor Sullivan.

As a wise person, most probably a woman, once said, God gave men two heads, and they often do their most important thinking with the wrong one. That was Greg Wilson in a nutshell.

“With all due respect,” said Hookah, “I didn’t come here to do hostage rescue. I came here to kill Orcs.” Orcs were a hideous, humanoid monster popularized in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and a popular pejorative adopted by the Ukrainians for Russian soldiers.

“A section of the Bohorodchany Iconostasis—a very big, very elaborate altarpiece.” “How big?” “When fully assembled, forty-two feet high by thirty-six feet wide. It was created in the late 1600s by an artist named Kondzelevych along with twenty carpenters, joiners, goldsmiths, and other artisans. It took seven years to create and is considered the pinnacle of Ukrainian art and the key to the country’s identity.”

“Chay ili kofe?” he asked her. Tea or coffee? “Chay, pozhaluysta,” she replied. Tea, please.

“Nyet,” she said. “Dlya detey.” For the children.

“Spasiba,” she responded. Thank you.

“Spasiba,” he said to her. Thank you. “Pozhaluysta,” she replied. “Segodnya vy naydete detey.” You are welcome. Today you find the children.

“Slava Ukraïni.” Glory to Ukraine.

“Heroiam slava!” Glory to the heroes.

“Ne dvigaysya,” he ordered, taking the guards completely by surprise. Don’t move.