I said, “You’re not worried they’ll just leak it?”
“Somewhat, but if they did, it would be treasonous. Right now, that will hold them in check.”
I nodded and said, “What do we have to work with in Zurich? Why didn’t we go to Paris? Seems like that would be more logical, given the active-duty nature of the target.”
“Paris is being handled by Shin Bet. It’s a firestorm. We can’t get anything done there. They control everything. The man that was murdered is responsible for the protection of all Israeli assets on the European continent. Trust me, we won’t get anywhere with them.”
“So they were responsible for the security of the Ramsad as well?”
She heard the question, thought about it, then said, “Yes, actually, that’s correct, but because the head of the European service was killed, we’ll have an easier time in Interlaken. They are getting their just due for allowing him to be killed, but the Shin Bet is consumed with the killing in Paris. We will have no interface with them.”
I saw her face draw inward, thinking, then she said, “Nobody cares about a retired person. Only the active ones.”
I said, “Well, maybe we can change that. Get some justice for him.”
She leaned forward and took my hand. “That’s why I wanted you, Nephilim. You and the team. You don’t care about politics. Only the truth. And I think this truth is going to be something people don’t want to see.”
As always, her gaze was disconcerting. I pulled my hand away and said, “Turn that shit off.”
She laughed and I said, “I’ll help you with the truth, but only if it’s the truth. Don’t pull me into some Mossad political fight.”
She said, “I don’t do politics. You should know that by now.”
And I did. In her earlier days, she’d been what’s called a “honey trap,” where she’d entice a Palestinian terrorist into bed so her hit team could kill him. She’d used her weird ability to read people and realized that the men she was setting up for the kill were innocent. And the man doing the killing wasn’t working for Israeli security, but because of profit. Black market profit. She’d turned him in and he had been cut free, but she had still been cast aside as a someone who couldn’t be trusted within the Mossad. She’d eventually landed on Aaron’s team as an outcast. Aaron had recognized her talents and her frailty because of the way she’d been used. She definitely didn’t do politics, but I knew how she felt about the dead Ramsad, and vengeance was a different story.
We’d crossed paths on a separate mission with her original team leader—the one who forced her to sleep with innocent men so he could murder them. She’d pretty much stopped Europe from going into World War III, and as a return favor, I’d help set up the team leader because he had been involved in the plot.
And she’d slaughtered him.
I leaned back and said, “So, where do we go from here? What are we doing when we land?”
“This fight is biblical. I can feel it. We’re going to find the man who killed the Ramsad, but that’s just a first step. He killed him for a reason, and it’s prophecy.”
I said, “Please, stop that. Let’s work with what we know, not some crazy theory about biblical prophecies. Is that okay?”
She squinted at me, then said, “Okay. If you want me to start questioning your judgment, what are we going to do with the American pilots flying this plane? They don’t have Schengen passports, and I don’t understand why we didn’t just fly straight to Zurich. It won’t matter where we land, they’ll still have problems.”
The Schengen Area in Europe was a no-border zone encompassing multiple countries where anyone living within it could travel freely. Even in the time of COVID. Since the vaccine rollout, and Israel’s incredible response, they’d been included as free travelers as if they were on the Schengen list, and didn’t require a visa. Americans, unfortunately, while also not needing a visa, were required to quarantine for fourteen days.
I said, “No, you’re wrong. Zurich would have raised a fuss because it’s a central hub. The airport we’ve chosen won’t. And beyond that, I don’t want this aircraft anywhere near where we might operate. That’s why we aren’t flying into Zurich. The place we’re going to has overnight accommodations, and it’s pretty close to the target area. It’s a clean break from us and the aircraft.”
“That still doesn’t solve the problem of the pilots.”
“We all have negative PCR tests, and they’ll have to quarantine at the airport, but that’s not our problem, since we’re ‘Israeli.’ They’ll let them in, and then let them stay. They just won’t get to do the usual flyboy stuff. They sit until we call.”
She nodded and said, “So we have Taskforce help here?”
I laughed and said, “No, we most definitely don’t, at least until there is an American threat. What do you have? What are we going to do here?”
“We have the location of the refugee sponsor of the paraglider. He’s an older guy, an expat Syrian who fled the fighting. The killer stayed with him. The police have cleared him of any involvement, but they don’t have the information we do. Because of it, they’ve determined the whole paragliding thing was an accident.”
“Even with the other guy being shot in the head? The paraglider who was originally supposed to take him up?”
“His case is being treated separately, as a stand-alone murder. They don’t want to hurt the recovering tourism industry. Israel didn’t push, and they were happy to let it go.”
“So this graybeard is connected to the attack? Or just a guy that’s now involved in something he has no idea about?”
“That’s what we need to figure out, but he’s connected. He’s the conduit for the money, I’m sure. He’ll have information.”
The pilot rang the intercom, then said, “We’re coming into final. Everyone needs to put on their seat belts. Thank you.”
Jennifer woke up, then leaned back into her seat, stretching like a cat. She saw me looking at Shoshana and said, “You guys make up?”
Shoshana gave her little wolf grin and said, “We were never in a fight. Pike knows better than that.”
Jennifer leaned into me and said, “Told you this would work out.”
I said, “Let’s wait until we get on the ground before we say that. Anytime we do anything with Carrie, bodies seem to follow.”
Chapter 14
Qassim Khaled woke up to his phone bleating out a tone. One that he recognized was from his sugar daddy. The man paying the bills.
It was a Zello call, meaning the voice message would be saved to his history like a chat message. He thought about just letting it sit, but knew he couldn’t.
He groggily rolled over, picked up the phone, went to the saved history, and hit play. He heard, “Are you there? It’s the Turtles. Answer the phone because the money is in jeopardy.”
That woke him up. He slid over his bed in his grimy undershirt, put his feet on the floor, and initiated the Zello push-to-talk feature. End-to-end encrypted and running over the internet, he knew that nobody hunting him could hear what he was about to say.