End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(80)
Shoshana, Lia, Aaron, and I entered the complex, getting stopped immediately by a secretary behind an ornate desk that looked like it had been used by Christopher Columbus. I realized we were dealing with an organization that was older than our entire country. And that this was going to be very delicate.
The secretary said something in Italian, and Lia flashed her badge, then showed her a close-up of the killer’s face, without the penis or Lia in the picture. She rattled off a bunch of Italian, and the two had a conversation, the rest of us just standing there like we understood what the hell was going on.
Eventually, I saw Lia hold up a hand, waving it back and forth as if the conversation was over, like she was telling the woman she was sorry for the intrusion. She flicked her head to the door and began walking, confusing the hell out of us. We followed her outside and back in the car.
I said, “What happened?”
“His name is Garrett and he’s some sort of protection detail for the Knights. He’s known as the leader of a group of Croatians called the Ninja Turtles. Basically, he’s the internal security for the Grand Master and other order activities. He’s an American”—she looked at Shoshana—“as you suspected. But he’s not here.”
Shoshana said, “Where is he?”
“He left this morning. Apparently, there’s a big ceremony happening in Israel in two days, and the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta is representing the Catholic contingent. The Vatican didn’t think it prudent to send an official delegation, so they sent him. He is, after all, considered a head of state.”
Aaron perked up and said, “Israel? He’s going to Israel?”
Lia nodded and said, “Yes. The prime minister is giving some speech at an archeological dig in Israel, and he’s invited a slew of Christian organizations to attend. Most are from the United States, probably because he’s trying to curry favor, but the Knights of Malta are going from Italy on behalf of the Roman Catholic Church.”
I slapped the dash and said, “So he now knows we’re looking for him? What if she calls him? He’ll be in the wind.”
She said, “No, I told her that he was not a suspect for anything. I said the picture was a surveillance camera footage from a robbery at a jewelry store across the street and we were talking to anyone who might have been nearby. She doesn’t think we were hunting him for a crime. It’s why I ended the interview. I didn’t want her to alert him.”
I said, “Good. Good. When is he coming back?”
“Four days. We can return in four days and just take him quietly, without upsetting the applecart of the Vatican and Italy.”
Shoshana said, “Where in Israel is this event happening?”
“Megiddo. It’s apparently an ancient archeological site. They’ve found something there that Israel wants to celebrate. Something from the Bible, to give a reason for Christians and Israelis to bond.”
Shoshana sucked in a breath, then said, “Pike, we can’t wait for him to return. This is it. We need to figure out what he’s doing, right now.”
“What do you mean ‘this is it’? Why can’t we wait?”
“Megiddo is an ancient city, one of the oldest in the world. Lia’s right. It’s in the Bible over and over, right up until the end.”
I didn’t know why she was getting so upset. “The end of what?”
“The end of the Bible. Revelation. The End of Days. It speaks about a climactic battle between the forces of good and evil right there in that city.”
I still didn’t get it. Megiddo? Who the hell cares about that?
She said, “Don’t you see? It’s what he’s been trying to do all along.”
Frustrated, I said, “No, I don’t see. Just because he’s crazy doesn’t mean I can see the crazy.”
She said, “He’s not coming back. This is his End of Days. In the Bible, Megiddo is known as Armageddon.”
And that I could understand.
Chapter 53
Sitting in the rear of a private charter jet, Garrett finally achieved deep sleep. He was safe, flying away from the investigation that was building into a crescendo. His dreams coalesced around a young woman dead on the floor, her robe open, and in the dream, her neck encircled by a red sash. He stood up from her body, for some reason wearing no pants, and heard a thumping at the door. He turned to jump out the window and faced Inspector Lia coming through it, holding a pair of pruning shears.
He jerked awake, disoriented, sweat popping on his brow like small beads of mercury. Across from him, Michelangelo said, “Hey, you okay, boss?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just haven’t had a lot of sleep the last few days.”
Michelangelo nodded, believing Garrett was talking about the toll the planning of their mission was having, and Garrett certainly wasn’t going to disabuse him of the notion.
After he’d killed the hapless university student, he’d fled down a back stairwell, found the student’s bike, and rode the four miles to his own place across the Tiber River, waiting on the police to pull him over with every stroke of his pedals. He’d ditched the bike on the street, knowing someone would steal it and possibly help with a misdirection if it was ever recovered, and packed his bags for the trip to Israel. He had enough time for about three hours of rest before Michelangelo arrived to take him to the airport.