End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(84)
Tariq laughed and said, “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not going to shoot you if you don’t, and you’ve only paid me half. I’ll just take the rest of those prepaid debit cards and leave you here. I won’t force you to put them on. Once again, this isn’t a kidnapping, but just as you have your secrets, I must have mine.”
Leonardo said, “Let’s do it.”
Raphael said, “Fuck that. Why?”
“Donatello and I had to do the same thing once before. In Tripoli. It worked out.”
Raphael reluctantly shoved his head into the bag, glaring at Tariq as he did so. He felt the vehicle leave the gas station, then leave the paved road, bouncing for the next hour down the slope and into the valley, the roads coarse and rustic, the shocks on the vehicle groaning in defiance as the frame of the vehicle traversed the pitted trail.
Eventually, the vehicle stopped and Tariq said, “You may remove the hoods.”
They did so, seeing a small compound around them, cinder-block buildings without siding, sheet metal roofs, and naked power lines going from building to building.
Tariq said, “We can eat here while we wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“We can’t attempt to cross the next mountain range until dusk, reaching the top in the darkness, then crossing the other side right before dawn. To do otherwise is dangerous.”
Tariq opened the door and said, “Come on. I have fruit and cheese for you. I’m like a Lebanese tour guide. No matter how much you pay, I promise a grand dinner but give you only snacks.”
He laughed at his joke, and Raphael heard gunfire no more than a hundred meters away. A lot of gunfire. He reached inside for his backpack, saying, “Enough of this shit.”
The driver stopped him with a hand, shaking his head. Tariq said, “You’re safe here in my care.”
“What the hell is the gunfire? Rebel troops fighting the government or something?”
Tariq’s eyes widened in surprise, then he began laughing, saying, “No, no, no. That’s not fighting. That’s training.”
“Who the hell is training out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“The same people you’re going to meet on the other side of this mountain chain in Syria. Hezbollah. The Party of God.”
Chapter 55
Walking toward the Oval Office, Alexander Palmer whispered, “Can I ask why there’s a priest with you?”
George Wolffe said, “Just in case I need last rites.”
They reached a couch about twenty feet away from the door and Wolffe turned, saying, “Father, if you could sit out here until I call you, I’d appreciate it.”
The priest nodded, taking a seat, and, like everyone else in the modern world, pulled out his phone and began scrolling.
Wolffe and Palmer kept walking, and Palmer said, “Seriously, why’s he here?”
Wolffe said, “Because I’m about to tell a story involving the belief in the end of the world, a Catholic organization from the Crusades, and a serial killer. He’s here for backup for questions I can’t answer.”
They entered the oval office and Palmer grabbed his arm, saying, “What?”
Before Wolffe could respond, President Hannister said, “George, come on in. We have little time.”
Wolffe pulled away from Palmer and said, “Yes, sir, that’s correct, because I’ve got Pike primed for an operation tonight that could help solve this whole riddle, but he’s going to need Omega authority to penetrate what’s basically the embassy of a sovereign country.”
All eyes in the room snapped to him at the words.
Wolffe advanced to a table between the two couches holding the principals to his left and right, facing the president behind the Resolute Desk.
He said, “It’s not Iran. I’m positive about that. It’s a cell of nutjobs with the power of the Catholic Church using an organization that’s been around since the Crusades to bring about the End of Days. They want to start a war against Iran, which will bring control of the Temple Mount under the Jewish state of Israel, and bring about the second coming of Christ.”
He waited for the incredulous looks or for someone tell him he was borderline insane. Instead, the other principals looked at Kerry Bostwick, the director of the CIA, and he said, “I told you. It isn’t just me spouting crazy shit.”
Wolffe said, “What’s that mean? What did you hear?”
Bostwick said, “There are people inside Mossad who believe the same thing. They’ve tracked it from another direction, and they have multiple reasons to believe this is not an Iranian attack.”
The secretary of defense said, “But that doesn’t alter what the Iranians are doing. They just blew up a refinery in Saudi Arabia using drones flown from Yemen by the Houthis. Drones built by Iran. They’re trying to show us their reach and the global implications to keep us out of a fight, but in so doing, they’re about to cause a fight.”
Wolffe said, “Where do we stand with the Fifth Fleet?”
“They’re out, and getting buzzed by Iranian fast attack boats every day, each time coming closer. We know it’s not to provoke us to attack, because that would be catastrophic to them, but they’re filming each time they come by. They’re gaining intelligence. My fear is that when they feel like they have enough, one of the strikes won’t veer away. They’ll have conditioned our sailors to view it as just another zip-on-by and then slam into our ships.”