End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(75)

She ran her hand through my hair and said, “I know, but since I’ve been with you, I’ve seen the beast on my own. I’ve killed for vengeance, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I still have dreams.”

Not for the first time, I wondered about the world I’d pulled her into. I’d done many, many things I’d regretted, and I really didn’t want my wife to feel the same. It wasn’t exactly a good foundation for a long-term relationship.

She said, “Shoshana is like you on this one. The Ramsad was her touchstone. She’ll kill now just to relieve the pain, even if it’s not right. Just like she did in Bahrain.”

I pulled my head away from her hand and said, “You know you’re the one who created that monster. She wants to be you not me.”

She laughed and said, “Monster? Come on. She’s not that. She is what she is, but she’s a little off on this one because of the Ramsad.”

“Yeah, well, her instincts are still pretty damn good. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s like a cadaver dog sniffing the ground. When she finds something, it’s usually right, and she was right on this one.”

She lowered herself to my level in the chair and said, “I get that. I really do. She’s my bridesmaid for a reason. Just don’t let her do anything that will make me regret she’s my bridesmaid.”

She locked on to my eyes and I saw the earnestness of her plea. She didn’t want Shoshana to do something evil, even if it meant a greater good. I nodded and said, “I hear you. I understand.”

She stood up and said, “That didn’t come out right. Don’t ever let her do anything that makes her regret being my bridesmaid. She loves me and I love her. We are the same, even if we’re different. Keep her from doing something in the heat of the moment she’ll regret. I don’t want another Bahrain killing.”

I said, “Her, or me? Are we really talking about her?”

She flashed me a little grin and said, “Very good, young Jedi. You’re learning.”

And then the VPN finally opened up. After hours of waiting, I heard it beep and saw George Wolffe behind the camera.

He said, “Creed tells me you’ve been an active little operator tonight. Tell me you have something.”

“Sir, I do, but it’s not what you think is going on, and you’re not going to like it. I didn’t find a rabid Iranian Qods Force operative. I found a serial killer.”

“What?”

“I know it’s crazy. It’s why I didn’t tell you before. There’s a serial killer running around Rome, and he’s also tied into the killing of our diplomats.”

“Pike, how does that have anything to do with the murders of Israelis and Americans? What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Take the Oversight Council an Italian criminal case? I need closure. Things are getting to the breaking point, not the least because of your idea to blame Keta’ib Hezbollah about the attempted murder of Knuckles and Brett. I need something here.”

I said, “Hey, sir, you’ve been here before. Only you used to be me, on the ground. I understand the pressure, but give me some time here. It’ll close.”

“Pike, we don’t have time. The Iranians are starting to react. We may not be able to control this. I need proof it isn’t them, or they may give us the proof with a war. They’re ramping up everything in the Hormuz Strait. They’re becoming convinced we’re going to attack them because of the assassinations, and they have very little time to preempt that.”

“Then talk to them. Can’t anyone talk to them? Do we have no contacts at all?”

“We have no diplomatic relations with them.”

“I understand that, sir, but we have contacts. Don’t we?”

The question hung in the air, and he got quiet. I said, “Sir, don’t we have someone? Anyone?”

I thought, How on earth could we not have at least one back channel with Iran? Even if it’s secret? We’re going to go to war because we can’t talk?

And I realized I had a contact. How I was the sole human on the face of the American defense establishment that did was beyond me.

I said, “Sir, I have someone in Lebanon. Do you want me to reach out?”

“Who?”

“A Druze. He’s the guy who helped me capture the Ghost years ago. A good dude. But he’s also tied into Hezbollah. The real ones, not that Iraqi militia. He can get us through to someone.”

“Pike, a Druze in Lebanon isn’t going to stop this thing. He’s not even Muslim.”

“I get that, but he is connected. He stopped that asshole Lucas Kane from killing the peace envoy. Remember? I didn’t tell you guys then, but he did it with Hezbollah’s help.”

I saw his eyes grow, him saying, “Are you telling me you used a sanctioned terrorist organization to complete a mission?”

I leaned back in my chair in frustration, then just started rattling off facts: “Yes, sir, I did. And it worked. You didn’t seem to mind then. The facts are what they are: A Croatian guy tried to kill our commander of the Fifth Fleet, which we found through a Syrian refugee in Switzerland. That’s not an anomaly. That’s a fact. The Croatian is employed by this weird-ass order known as the Knights of Malta here in Rome, and he made a Zello call from Bahrain with a geolocation to the site of a crime scene in the EUR neighborhood of Rome related to a serial killer. The inspector of that crime scene was assaulted tonight by the killer. He was not Iranian. We interdicted him with the help of Creed as he was about to kill the inspector. I’ll leave out the gross-ass sex stuff, but that guy is involved in all of it. He’s nuts, and he’s also very, very smart.”