Now driving to Megiddo, he was being asked to stop for a cappuccino in the heart of the Israeli desert on a two-lane road that was much like a highway in Arizona—which is to say, there wasn’t going to be a gas station anytime soon.
Chapter 68
At seven forty-five in the morning, I heard my computer ding, the Taskforce Inmarsat phone hooked to it, and raced over, seeing a message from Knuckles. In position. Two men so far, but can’t judge total force.
I typed, Call me now.
The Inmarsat buzzed, and I routed it through the computer, Jennifer strolling out of the bathroom wearing a robe, her head in a towel. She said, “What’s going on?”
“They found the possible target.”
I clicked the “accept” button and said, “This is Pike. Go ahead.”
“We’ve got two men at a compound loading what looks like a drone on the back of a pickup truck, and I don’t think it’s the first one. Either they’re mentally deficient at operating them, or the drones aren’t working, because the front of the building is caved in and I can see the wreckage of another drone.”
“What kind of drone? Like a quadcopter?”
“No, like a mini-predator. Looks to be about twenty feet long with a wingspan of about fifteen. They’re mounting it in the back of a pickup truck.”
“Send me a picture.”
“Stand by.”
The computer dinged and I pulled it up, seeing what looked like a miniature airplane with a push propeller in the back, but it was not anything I recognized. I said, “Got it.” I glanced at Jennifer, saying, “Sending it to the Taskforce now.”
She slid behind the computer in her robe and began typing a message.
I said, “So what are we looking at? Is this them?”
“Pike, I don’t honestly know. The grid from the NSA intercept is here, but I don’t see any Hezbollah-looking dudes. Just these two, and interdicting them is going to be very hard. We’re in an overwatch position about three hundred meters away, and getting to them without being seen is asking for an ass kicking. We’re in the hills, but they’re in flat terrain with zero cover. I can wait until they’re done, and they return to the compound, but attacking them out in the open here isn’t ideal.”
“Do you think they’re the Turtles?”
“Could be. They’re not Arab, if that’s what you mean, but they could also be Chechens working for Hezbollah. I don’t know. What did you get from Shoshana and Aaron?”
Both of our Israelis had left at the crack of dawn to go meet their Mossad contact somewhere. We weren’t read on to the meeting, and I had no idea when they’d return. I said, “Nothing yet. They’re doing their top-secret meeting, but haven’t come back. I don’t know what they’re going to find out.”
Jennifer waved at me and I said, “Hang on.”
I looked at the screen, reading off a Taskforce report. I said, “The UAV is a Samad Three, built in Iran and used primarily by the Houthis to attack Saudi Arabia, but it’s also been passed to Hezbollah. It’s basically a suicide drone. A slow-flying cruise missile. You’re definitely looking at Iranian armament, and if those guys are loading it up, it means they’re going to use it for an attack.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t want you to endanger yourself, but don’t let them launch.”
He laughed and said, “Wow. So endanger myself, or let them launch?”
I didn’t say anything for a second, and he came back, saying, “Brett thinks he’s found a way. They’re loading it on the back of that truck for a reason, which means they’re going to drive it for a launch platform. There’s only one road going in and out of this place. We can position for an ambush along the road about a hundred meters from the compound. We won’t have to do a frontal assault.”
I said, “Perfect.”
He said, “Maybe. Maybe not. If we’re wrong, the drone is on the way.”
I heard a knock on my door, Jennifer opened it, and I saw our Israelis. I said, “Execute that plan. Carrie just came back. Let me see what I can find out and I’ll call you back if something changes.”
Knuckles said, “Roger that. Any word on exfil?”
I looked at Aaron and pointed at a chair, saying into the Inmarsat, “Yes, Wolffe has the message. He’s working it.”
He said, “Small comforts. We do a shoot-out here, and we’re going to be on the run.”
“I know. Worst case, head to the UN buffer group along the Golan Heights.”
He laughed and said, “That would definitely be the worst case. Call me when you figure something out. I’d rather sneak out of here because the Israelis have solved the problem than run out of here like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with the entire Bolivian army on my ass.”
I said, “You got it. Hang in there.”
I disconnected and said, “Well, what did you guys figure out?”
“They’re here, and the serial killer is with them. We matched all the pictures from immigration and his name is Garrett. He’s acting as their head of security. We have identification for most of the diplomatic group, except for one guy. Garrett and the rest are driving to Megiddo—they left early this morning—but one named Michelangelo is not. He arrived with them, but isn’t listed as attending the speech. We don’t know where he is.”
“Okay, so they’re calling off the speech?”
“Unfortunately, no.” She saw the look on my face and held up her hands, saying, “We have elections coming up, and the prime minister isn’t going to miss this opportunity. There are delegations from four countries, to include the United States. Do you think he’s going to call off this event in our own country? In effect, say he can’t protect them in our own land? He’ll look like a coward.”
Incredulous, I said, “You guys realize the best case is he just ends up dead. Worst case he gets his entire country in a war with Iran.”
Shoshana said, “Pike, trust me, I get it, but it’s out of our hands. The prime minister is surrounded by Shin Bet. This Garrett guy can’t do anything to harm him. He’s one man.”
Chapter 69
Garrett finally saw the turnoff for the Megiddo national monument, having stopped some twenty minutes before at a coffee shop just off the Iron Interchange, a spaghetti-like mess of roads where four highways converged. He left Highway 6, joined Highway 65 to the east, and saw a truck stop advertising a coffee shop. He pulled into the parking lot, reminding the men they were on a time schedule.
The Knights’ entourage took another twenty minutes at the stop milling about, deciding on what to purchase and talking to the locals gathered there. He knew the Grand Master enjoyed such settings, but felt the press of time.
Eventually, they’d returned to the highway, and twenty minutes later, Garrett found the turn for the monument. It was another ten minutes down a small blacktop before he saw the parking area.
Pulling into the tourist compound, he saw a security checkpoint and a modern building at the back, the Megiddo hill and excavation rising behind it.