End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(52)


At that moment, an explosion down the street rocked the room, the ceiling releasing dust like we were in Beirut. Everyone in the restaurant stopped, looking at each other. Another explosion happened, this one closer. From the sound of it, right next door at the hotel the restaurant was attached to. People began to stand up, some rushing to the door. The five-man group immediately turned around, one of them urging the others back out onto the street.

And I knew how they were going to get him.

Shoshana came on, shouting, “I’ve got explosions on the street. I say again, they’re targeting the hotel next door.”

The room was turning into pandemonium, with people either hiding under their tables or trying to run out. I leapt up, saying, “It’s a diversion. It’s a diversion. They’re taking him now. Get on them.”

I drew my pistol, saw Knuckles, Brett, and Aaron do the same, and we ran to the door, pushing through the cattle of the other panic-stricken people in the restaurant, only we weren’t looking for a safe space. I saw the five-man crew walking at a fast pace, staring at the smoke rising fifty meters away. I sprinted toward them just as the van door slid open on the street, three men spilling out and racing across the grass to the front of the restaurant. They fired into the crowd, scattering everyone, then leapt on the leader of the group, piling him into the ground.

They hoisted him like a bag of wheat and began running back to the van. I said, “Don’t hit him! Don’t hit him!” knowing my entire team was about to shoot. Knuckles took a knee, brought his pistol up, and let out a breath. He broke the trigger and the trail man shouted, dropping the body. The others tried to continue, now dragging the man, and I finally got in the fight, drawing a bead and hitting the lead man in the head.

He collapsed. The last one seemed unsure of what to do, which was enough time for Brett and Aaron to reach him. He attempted to hoist the man on his shoulders, but the target was now fighting like a wildcat. The last man saw Brett and Aaron with their weapons out and kicked the target to the ground, raising a pistol. Aaron split his head open.

The target leapt up and sprinted away, running like he was on fire. I let him go, racing to the front of the van. It began moving and I started shooting, puncturing the windshield. I couldn’t see the driver, but I knew where to aim. I fired once, twice, three times, and the van veered off to the left, the accelerator floored. It smashed into a concrete wall, the engine still revving.

I saw a flash of headlights, a car about to run me down. I dove out of the way, then saw a Land Rover following close behind, Jennifer at the wheel. The vehicle went about fifty meters before the Rover hammered it in the right rear quarter panel, punching it into the wall of the alley, the Rover pinning it to the wall.

I started sprinting toward it, Knuckles right behind me, saying, “Blood, Aaron, check out the van.”

I saw a man exit the sedan with a pistol in his hands. Shoshana leapt out of the passenger side of the Rover and was on him, slapping the weapon high and tearing into his body with her elbows, knees, and fists. He screamed a keening wail, trying to fight back, and she circled his body, cinching his waist with her legs and wrapping her arms around his head, bringing him to the ground.

I shouted, “No!” and she leaned back, torquing his neck until it snapped. I reached her just as she was pushing him off herself with a leg, his body now lifeless, his eyes still open, a string of drool coming out of his mouth.

Jennifer came around the car with her pistol out, pulling security, looking for another threat. Shoshana stood up, breathing heavily.

I just shook my head. She said, “What?”

“Nothing. Check his body for anything you can find. Phones, documents, whatever.”

I clicked on the net and said, “Blood, Aaron, you done?”

“Yeah. They had a little torture chamber in the back, complete with camera.”

“Get the other Rover. We’re leaving immediately.”

Knuckles started searching the sedan and I said, “Leave it. There won’t be anything in that. We need to go. Jennifer, get this thing back in motion.”

She jumped behind the wheel and backed up the Rover, showing me it could still function. Shoshana stood up and said, “I have a cell and a passport.”

I said, “Good enough. Let’s get the hell out of here.”





Chapter 35




George Wolffe followed Alexander Palmer down to the Situation Room, watching aides scramble up and down the hallway like the folders they were carrying was the cure for COVID. He said, “So it’s gotten a little heated?”

“That’s putting it mildly. When you try to blow up the commander of the Fifth Fleet, there’s going to be a reaction.”

“They didn’t try to blow him up. That was a diversion.”

Palmer chuckled and said, “Yeah, so I guess capturing him to torture him later is better. The Bahrain naval base is on lockdown and the monarchy is going nuts. They’ve invaded a Shia neighborhood called Sanabis and are cracking skulls. The bottom line is Keta’ib Hezbollah tried to kill him.”

Wolffe said, “We don’t know that for sure.”

Palmer paused outside the door of the Situation Room, saying, “We don’t? That’s different from the report you sent.”

“That didn’t come out right. Yes, a militia under the sway of Iran tried to kill him. That’s correct. What we don’t know is if Iran had anything to do with it.”

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