End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(93)
Wolffe grinned and said, “You know the charter. Omega is for the threat, not the geographic boundaries. It’s exactly why the Taskforce was created. No gaps between competing authorities and individual fiefdoms.”
I chuckled, knowing the jeopardy he’d just put himself in, and said, “Didn’t take long to ditch that ‘walls’ speech you just gave. Yeah, I get it, but this is pushing that authority to the limit. But I get it. I’m not the one who’s going to explain the fallout after I get this done. We’ll fly tomorrow.”
“I understand Israel. I have no questions about rolling up that guy inside the country, but what about Lebanon? You think you can find the guys loose there now?”
“Honestly, sir, I don’t know. We have a name, and I have a contact. If this guy is as big a deal inside Hezbollah as he bragged about in the emails we found, my buddy will know him. If not, we’re out of luck. But I’m thinking he will. These ‘Ninja Turtles’ have a plan, and the contact is facilitating it for money. If I were to guess, they’re going to launch another strike from inside Lebanon using Iranian weapon systems to inflame the war, outside of Hezbollah control, and Hezbollah isn’t going to like that. We’ll find them.”
Wolffe closed his eyes for a moment, and I realized he was as tired as I was. He returned to the screen, saying, “You need to stop them. I mean, really stop them. I’m not going back for additional authorities on this. When you find them, kill them. A hit like that, from Lebanese territory, will be the final nail. We’ll be at war.”
I was a little taken aback at the statement. We didn’t ever kill on command. Unless the target was designated DOA. Now growing serious, I said, “Are you telling me the Oversight Council has designated this target as DOA?”
He looked away, thinking about his next words. He came back to the screen and said, “I don’t have time to go back to the council on this. I’m telling you that they are designated DOA. Me alone.”
I nodded and said, “Good enough for me, sir. We’ll get it done. I have to brief the team and get prepped for movement. Anything else?”
“Yeah. What about that back channel to Iran? Is that real?”
I was startled by the question. I was about to spread my team over two different countries, killing people wholesale while trying to keep myself out of jail, and he was asking me to conduct geopolitical diplomacy?
I spread my hands and said, “Hey, sir, that’s national command authority shit. I can’t do both. If you want me to find the guys in Lebanon, I can’t also start negotiating with Hezbollah.”
He said, “You just told me that Hezbollah wouldn’t like what’s going on. You can do both.”
I shook my head and said, “I’m going into a very, very dangerous situation just to find these guys. I might end up on a Hezbollah video trying to accomplish the first mission.”
Wolffe leaned forward and said, “This is important, and it’s also not part of my authority, but I think it matters. We’re about to be at war, and I don’t mean that in a small-war sense, like Afghanistan, where America has forgotten we’re even there. I mean a full-on war, drawing in every damn Arab country there is, with suicide bombers detonating on U.S. playgrounds. Iran is serious. They think their back is to the wall, and if you’re right, they don’t even know why.”
I shook my head, thinking, Why am I in this position? I’m the hammer looking for a nail. I could do what he wanted against the men attempting to light the fire, but I wasn’t the man who did diplomacy. That was someone else’s job.
I sighed and said, “Sir, I might be able to do that. If you want it, I can try, but I can’t do it on my own. I need some no-shit, real national command authority statements. I can try to get the message passed, but I’m not going to be the diplomat here. If President Hannister wants to talk to the theocracy, I think I can do it, but I’m not going to be the one debating with some Hezbollah terrorist.”
Wolffe nodded and said, “That’s the first mission. The primary one. We need to turn down the rhetoric on this.”
“So Hannister is going to pass me a message? That he wants passed to Iran?”
Wolffe rubbed his face and said, “No. Not yet. But he will.”
Chapter 60
Raphael watched the cliffs to his right, the growing light of dawn finally giving him the ability to see how crazy the traverse had been. He white-knuckled the handle above the door, his foot reflexively hitting a brake pedal that didn’t exist in the back of the vehicle.
Eventually, they descended low enough into the Syrian desert plain that they picked up an actual, honest-to-God road. Raphael breathed a sigh of relief, and sagged back into his seat, the hills still around him, but no longer posing a threat.
Tariq directed the vehicle to a village that looked like a cross between a Mad Max movie and a Disney set. The view around the village was spectacular, with the houses built into the side of the mountains like Swiss chalets, only the structures were of a dismal cinder-block construction, with leftover debris and broken cars littered about.
Tariq said, “This is Jandal. You’re now in Syria. This is where we’re going to meet your contacts.”
Raphael nodded, and they entered the town on a small two-lane rutted asphalt road, threading through the concrete buildings. Eventually, they stopped at an outdoor service station that doubled as a coffee shop. Tariq said, “Go get a table on the patio. We’re going to fill up.”