End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(99)

The man was glowering at me like he wanted to set my balls on fire. Not exactly a good start to negotiations.

The man said, “You can call me Muhammed.”

I laughed and said, “Sort of like John Smith, is that it?”

He didn’t get the joke, looking at Samir. I said, “Sorry, I’m not trying to cause a fight here.”

Muhammed said, “What do you want? Why did you come here?”

I said, “I need the phone number for one of your men. He’s with some people who are trying to start a war. I want to stop them.”

He said, “It is you people who are starting a war. You people who are looking for a pretext to cause a fight.”

I looked at Samir and said, “Is this the guy? Can he talk to the leadership?”

Samir glanced at Muhammed and said, “He can talk to the leadership of Hezbollah. I can’t promise they’ll do the same with Iran.”

I turned to Muhammed and said, “We’re about to be at war. If we do that, it’ll be the end of your existence. It’ll be total. Iran will be gone, and so will Hezbollah. You understand that, right?”

“I understand that you will pay a heavy price for such a thing. Afghanistan and Iraq rolled up times ten.”

I said, “Exactly. We don’t want that. We really, really don’t, no matter what you guys think. We do not want a war. You think we’re making up the killings around the world to give us an excuse, but the killings are real.”

He hissed, “The killings are from someone else. You’re just using them as a punching bag. We have nothing to do with them.”

I leaned back and said, “Yes. We know that. You are not responsible for them. Someone else is causing it, and they’re blaming you to cause us to go to war. You people are playing into their hands. Every strike you do, every show of force is backing us up against a wall. We need you to stop.”

He looked at Samir, then said, “How do I know this is true? How do I know you aren’t just trying to gain an edge on the fight?”

I said, “Honestly, you don’t. But do you have a smartphone?”

He looked confused for a moment, then said, “Yes.”

“Is it an iPhone?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to airdrop you a message from the president of the United States. It’s a message from my commander in chief. It’s real.”

Surprised, he said, “I can’t trust that.”

I said, “I know. There’s no way to prove it’s a true message, except for one thing: I traveled here, to Lebanon, to give it to you.”

I pointed at his two security teams and said, “At great personal risk, I might add. My national command authority wants to head off a war, and they asked me to do this.”

I kept my eyes on him, and an attractive woman approached our table. About twenty-five years old, she had that sultry look that seemed to be inherent in Lebanese women. I glanced at her, did a double take at her beauty, and saw Jennifer smile at my reaction.

I waited on her to say something, but she went to Samir and hugged him. I looked at Jennifer and she said, “Don’t tell me you thought she was coming over here for you.”

I blustered something and she said, “You don’t recognize her?”

And I finally did. She was Samir’s niece, someone who’d been kidnapped on the same mission where I’d lost a finger. I’d slaughtered quite a few people to save her. She was older now, and it showed in all the right ways.

Samir returned her embrace and said, “We have some business to conduct, if you don’t mind.”

She ignored him, coming over to Jennifer and giving her a hug. She then looked at me and with a bubbly smile said, “I still owe you.”

Like she’d lost a game of beer pong instead of being captured and almost killed. Her resilience was the essence of the entire country. I said, “Yes, if I remember, it was a beer.”

She laughed and said, “One day I’ll pay.”

She kissed me on the forehead and left. Muhammed watched the entire exchange, finally saying, “What was that?”

I said, “Nothing. Past times. Your phone?”

I could tell the encounter had worked in our favor. I wasn’t the infidel from the Great Satan. I was something different. Muhammed pulled out his cell. I opened my airdrop application, seeing “Dora the Explorer” as the only available destination.

I said, “I don’t see your phone.”

He said, “Look for Dora.”

I looked up from my iPhone and said, “You’re shitting me.”

He smiled for the first time and said, “I have a daughter. She named my phone.”

I laughed and said, “I have my own daughter, adopted from Syria. I get it. It’s on the way,” and we finally bonded. He relaxed in the chair, retrieved the message, and said, “I will take this to my command. I can’t promise anything.”

I said, “That’s all I ask. Just do what we both want here. Nobody wants a war. Well, almost nobody.” I looked at Samir and said, “Which is why I need that number for the smuggler.”

Muhammed said, “You don’t need to worry about that number. We’ve talked to him, and he’s okay. We’ll be taking care of him.”

“No offense, but I don’t think he will be. He’s in danger, if he’s not already dead. Do you know where he is here in Lebanon? Can you get to him?”