Inside the vehicle, Tariq said to Leonardo, “We’ve done our duty. Pay us the rest of the money and we’ll be on our way. I don’t want to know what’s going on here.”
Leonardo said, “You’re not going anywhere.”
Tariq pulled out his sat phone, raised the antennae, and dialed a number, saying, “Yes, I am. I got you here, and that was the deal. I’ll need the rest of the cards now.”
Leonardo said, “We’re going to need help getting back to Beirut.”
“That wasn’t the agreement. I get you here, and I’m done.”
“Well, it’s the agreement now. If you want those other debit cards, you’ll wait.”
Tariq gave a sour look, and the phone connected. He said, “Package is delivered. I’m coming home.”
The man on the other end of the line said something, and Leonardo saw Tariq’s eyes squint. He said, “What do you mean?”
The man on the other end of the line said something else, and Tariq said, “I’ll be coming back soon.”
Leonardo waited for him to hang up, then said, “We can’t get out of here by ourselves. The agreement was here and back.”
Tariq laid the sat phone on the dash, the antennae still out and connected. He said, “That is not what we agreed to. I have other endeavors in the works. I don’t have time to wait for you to play with these guys. You do what you want to do, but we’re leaving.”
Leonardo pulled up his pistol and said, “You’ll wait. At least for a little bit.”
The driver saw the pistol and reacted violently, turning around and attempting to grab it out of Leonardo’s hands. Leonardo broke the trigger, splattering the driver’s brain matter against the windshield.
The two men near the HiLux ducked, looking at the Land Cruiser. Tariq slammed his back against the door, holding his hands out, shouting, “No, no, no!”
Track suit whipped out a pistol, aiming it at Raphael’s head. “What was that?”
Raphael spread his hands wide, showing he had no weapon. He said, “I don’t know.”
Track suit said, “Tariq is valuable to us. He is a friend. You are not. Raise your hands.”
Raphael did so, saying, “I’m only here to help with the drones.”
Camouflage guy came to him, searching up and down his body. He pulled out a Glock 19, tossed it in the dirt, then nodded to track suit, who said, “Tell your partner to come out without a weapon. And to release Tariq.”
Raphael shouted at the SUV and Tariq exited, his hands in the air.
Track suit said, “What’s going on?”
Tariq said, “Nothing. Everything is fine.”
Track suit said, “Where is your driver?”
Panting, Tariq said, “In the car. In the car.”
Track suit looked at Raphael, pointed his pistol, and said, “Get your other man out here, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
The words were still hanging in the air when his head exploded like a watermelon thrown off a roof. Camouflage man whirled, and he met the same fate, his head absorbing two rounds from a Glock 19. He dropped, and Leonardo appeared from the other side of the Land Cruiser.
Raphael sagged a bit, then said, “Good shooting.”
Tariq said, “What have you done? They’re Hezbollah. We’re all dead now.”
Raphael went back to the Land Cruiser saying, “You were dead the minute you got in the vehicle with me.”
He dug around the backseat, came back out, and tossed the hood he’d been forced to wear earlier. He said, “Put that on. Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapping you.”
Chapter 63
Garrett heard the alarm go off and rolled over, the jet lag still kicking him in the butt. He sat up, put his feet on the floor, then thought about just getting back in bed. Today was nothing more than an orientation day, with the Knights’ members meeting the other church groups who had gathered for the trip to Megiddo. The day was beginning with breakfast, and then would include scripted tourist events designed to inculcate in the group of visitors an undying support for the state of Israel.
He showered, dressed, then took his Thuraya sat phone and went to the window to let it find a satellite. It connected, but he had no messages. He was beginning to worry about the mission in Syria. The last he’d heard, they had landed in Lebanon, but that had been over twenty-four hours ago. If they had failed, the only thing left was Michelangelo, and Garrett wasn’t sure his attack would be enough. It was a failsafe, last-chance attempt. He thought about calling them, but understood the risks involved.
Satellite phones in Syria were routinely monitored by a plethora of intelligence agencies, both from the West and the East, not to mention the Assad regime itself. He decided to leave the phone on the windowsill and see if he had a message when he returned.
He went downstairs to the breakfast event, meeting the Grand Master and the other men of the Knights of Malta entourage, then met the other organizations who had traveled for the event, most evangelical megachurches based in the United States, all incredibly happy to be invited.
He did his best to keep up appearances, and honestly didn’t have much trouble doing so, as the true anointed Knights of his group were the ones people wanted to meet, not some nobody on the edges.
He heard plenty of people talking about the prophecies of the Bible, but none who would actually bring it about. And felt a calm by the words.
Toward the end of the breakfast, the Grand Master pulled him aside and said, “Spend today doing whatever security preparations you must, because tomorrow, I don’t want you to be a single blip on anyone’s radar.”
“Okay, sir. That’s my mission for today. And thank you for keeping me out of the mess of politics of this trip. You guys can enjoy the trip to Jerusalem. I’ll prepare the protection.”
Grand Master Chaucer said, “I can’t afford you to interrupt anything tomorrow. If it’s not settled today, it’s not getting settled. I’ll trust the Israelis for my protection.”
Garrett smiled and said, “It will be fine, sir. As we both know, the Lord will protect us.”
He left the breakfast and went to find Michelangelo. Going to his room, he pounded on the door. Michelangelo opened it, clearly hungover from the night before. Garrett barged in and said, “Can you not spend one night focused on the mission?”
Michelangelo rubbed his eyes and said, “What the hell, what time is it?”
Garrett said, “Close to ten in the morning. Is that too early for you?”
Now aggravated, Michelangelo said, “I am focused on the mission. But it’s not for two days.”
Garrett opened the drapes to his hotel room, the light spilling in and causing Michelangelo to wince. He said, “The tour today goes to the Old City of Jerusalem. You’re going to be on it. I need you to find out how you can get into the Dome of the Rock. There are apparently specific entrance requirements, and you need to find out how to get your backpack inside.”
He said, “I’m going as a Muslim. Not a Christian.”
“Reconnaissance is reconnaissance. Pack your shit. Leave the explosives here, but take the backpack. Find out the security limits. And stay away from the cameras. When you go back, I don’t want them to make a connection with this visit.”