End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(120)
He hung up before she could say anything else.
Aaron said, “What was that about Shoshana?”
“Garrett stabbed her, but it’s a clean wound. She’s going to be fine. Pike is with her now.”
He nodded, saying, “And Garrett?”
“He’s dead.”
She saw the smile trickle out and said, “Pike says he fought back. Shoshana didn’t execute him.”
Aaron turned to her and said, “I don’t care how he died, as long as he’s dead.”
And Jennifer realized he was just like Shoshana. A man who took the biblical saying “an eye for an eye” to heart. She felt a chill, glad she wasn’t on the bad side of either one of them.
She changed the subject, saying, “The final Turtle is outside the Al Aqsa Mosque. Pike couldn’t get any information about his mission, but we need to stop him.”
They entered the outskirts of Jerusalem, and he said, “We won’t arrive to the Old City for at least five minutes, and it’ll be a twenty-minute race on foot once we get there.”
“Pike said from the chats that the Temple Mount is closed right now. They won’t let anyone in to pray because of some potential protests. We should have that time.”
She snapped her fingers and said, “That’s it! Can you call your Mossad contacts and have them simply keep the place closed until we can locate him? Just don’t let him in.”
He grimaced, and she said, “I know you said getting overt action from them was impossible, but can’t they just delay the opening? Keep it closed for another hour?”
They reached the outskirts of the Old City. He pulled off of the main road, into a parking garage outside the Jaffa Gate. He said, “I can try, but it’s going to be nearly impossible. There are too many layers to wade through. The Mossad doesn’t control the Islamic Waqf or the Israeli security of the Temple Mount.”
He dialed his phone, spoke into it in Hebrew, then became aggravated, shouting. He hung up and said, “There was a possible violent protest by the Palestinians. It didn’t happen, and now the Palestinians are starting to protest about the gate closures. Not a coordinated thing. Spontaneous.”
“And? What does that mean?”
“We went to war in Gaza last year because of our strong-arming of the worshipers in the Al Aqsa Mosque. Hamas rockets hit just about every city in Israel. They aren’t willing to take that risk again. They’re letting the Muslims inside in ten minutes, and there’s nothing I can do about it. We won’t start launching tear gas and rubber bullets again to stop them.”
She said, “Did you tell them that there’s a terrorist posing as a Palestinian who’s about to set off a bomb?”
He put the SUV in park, turned off the ignition, and said, “I did. They don’t believe the scope of the threat. In their mind, there is a greater problem set here, and it’s all politics. Honestly, I’m not sure if some don’t want the attack to occur.”
Jennifer said, “Surely your government doesn’t want an attack at the Al Aqsa Mosque to be blamed on the Jewish faith?”
He said, “No, we don’t, but I also know that they don’t see what’s happening. They don’t know how close we are to total war. Some in my government want it, just as some in yours do.”
He looked at her and said, “Politics have always been the death of people. We can stop that now. We have no help, and I can’t ask you to do it, but we can prevent a war. I know America won’t feel the missiles, and I know that Pike would say to leave, but will you help me?”
She couldn’t believe he’d even asked. She said, “Aaron, just tell me what to do. This is your land. Your terrain. And if Pike were here, he wouldn’t be running away, he’d be asking for the kill zone.”
He realized he’d insulted her. He said, “Shoshana is rubbing off on you.”
Still aggravated at his words, she said, “Maybe I’m rubbing off on her; now what the hell are we doing?”
He nodded and said, “We’re going to roll that guy up before he gets inside the compound, but when we do, we’re going to get attacked by the other Palestinians. There is no way to take him down without them seeing. They’ll think we’re doing something heinous. We’re liable to get killed by the protestors, but we’ll prevent him from completing his mission. Are you ready for that?”
She took a deep breath and said, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
They exited the vehicle at a run, threading their way through groups of police and tourists showing trepidation at the show of force. They reached the Muslim quarter, heading down Via Dolorosa, the path of Christ’s final walk. Mid-stride, Aaron turned around, saying, “Look familiar?”
Jennifer said, “Yes. But I don’t want to repeat that episode.”
He smiled and kept jogging. They penetrated the Muslim quarter, going to the Tribes Gate, one of the eleven the Muslims could use, and the last known location for the final Turtle.
Except for a phalanx of police in riot gear, the entrance was empty.
Chapter 78
Michelangelo almost didn’t believe it when the gate opened, the security forces bending back to the pressure. There had been no organized protest, but there had been a groundswell of people coming out, aggravated at their inability to pray at the Al Aqsa Mosque. Most of the protestors were older, with a significant number of women. They’d begun chanting, pressing forward, and the Israeli security pushed them back. Eventually, a news camera had shown up, focusing on the women.