End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(76)
I leaned back and said, “This is not about Iran. It’s about the End of Days in the Bible.”
He said, “What on earth does that mean?”
I looked at Jennifer and said, “I’m honestly not sure. It’s something Shoshana believes, and the inspector has evidence pointing the same way. There’s some crazy cult stuff going on, and it’s tied into the Knights of Malta. They’re trying to cause an apocalyptic war to cause what they think will be the second coming of Christ.”
Wolffe rubbed his eyes and said, “And you want me to take that to the president of the United States? Seriously? You want me to go tell him a chivalric organization that’s been around since the Crusades, known worldwide for helping refugees in war-torn countries regardless of religion, backed by the Catholic Church, is trying to start a war with Iran so they can ‘cleanse’ the earth?”
I slapped the table and said, “No, damn it. I’m not saying they want to do it. I’m saying people in it do.”
I heard a knock on the door and said, “Hang on. Someone’s here.”
Wolffe said, “Hopefully your wayward minions.”
Jennifer opened it, and sure enough, it was Knuckles and Brett, both smiling. They came in and I said, “Hey, so you’re not going to jail for the next twenty years?”
“Nope. My little booty call paid off. Amanda Croft brought some leverage and we were given dip creds. They let us go.”
“Dip creds” were diplomatic credentials. I said, “Well, considering you were the target, I’m not really shocked. It’s not like you tried to blow yourself up.”
Brett laughed and said, “So what’s going on here?”
I pointed at the screen and said, “Wolffe wants some proof that you weren’t targeted by Iran, or he’s going to launch some missiles.”
Wolffe said, “Pike, cut that shit out. Knuckles, what happened?”
I stood up and he took my seat saying, “State took over. Gave us cover, and we were released. They think it’s one more attack in a string of them. They were glad to get rid of us and pass the case to their intelligence agencies. We’re free and clear, but the embassy here sure is confused about us.”
Wolffe laughed and said, “Well, they can be confused all day long. President Hannister has your back. Do you have anything I can take him to prove it wasn’t some militia from Iraq under the sway of Iran?”
“No, sir. They had full-face motorcycle helmets on, but it wasn’t a militia. They tracked us from the Knights of Malta headquarters. They knew we were there, and watched us leave.”
“What about the guy who Pike found tonight? Was he involved?”
Knuckles said, “I have no idea. We’ve been in a closed interrogation for the last ten hours.”
Jennifer pulled up a screenshot from the inspector’s Echo Ten camera on her tablet and showed Brett. He said, “Hey, Knuckles, isn’t this the guy from our visit to the Knights? He was sitting outside on a bench.”
Jennifer brought him the tablet. He took one look at it and said, “Yeah, that’s the guy that eyeballed me on the way in.”
I leaned into the screen and said, “I told you. You still think this is the Iranians?”
“Who is he?”
“I have no idea, but I will tomorrow. I’m going to kick that door down first thing.”
Wolffe said, “Send me the information. I agree the circumstantial evidence is breaking away from the Iranians but hold what you’ve got until I get some clearance. I can’t authorize you to invade a Catholic order controlled by the Vatican, claiming they’re killing foreign diplomats, without some overhead cover.”
I said, “Don’t worry about that part of it, sir. I’m not going to do it as an American.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s a no-shit serial killer, and I know an Italian police inspector who’s a little pissed at him.”
Chapter 50
Raphael and Leonardo exited the aircraft along with everyone else, some struggling from the sleep deprivation from flying all night, and others, like them, only mildly affected from a four-hour flight to Rafic Hariri International Airport in Beirut. They threaded through the tunnels reaching the immigration and customs area, and saw the lines for immigration. A sign said “Flight Crew and Diplomatic Personnel” and they went that way.
The Knights of Malta had reciprocal diplomatic relationships with multiple countries around the world, and Lebanon was one. Unlike what had happened with Donatello, Raph was sure that this time they’d be passed through like every other arriving diplomat, to include their bags being treated as sacrosanct.
And they were.
After showing their diplomatic passports, they were escorted to the baggage claim area, picked up their bags, and were then escorted by an officer right out the door, nobody ever once acting like they wanted to check the luggage for contraband. Which was good, because they most definitely had contraband in the form of weapons.
Outside of the customs area, Raph found a line of people all waiting on arrivals, then saw his name written on a single piece of paper, held by a local man wearing a threadbare coat and tie.
He went to him and said, “I’m Raphael.”
The man smiled and said, “A pleasure to meet you. Come, come. Can I help you with your bags?”