Wolffe nodded, saying, “I got that and we’re already tracking on it. All of that intel has been fed into the system.”
“Well, let Knuckles take a crack at it when he gets there. I promise he’ll lap whatever you’ve found while he’s in the air, probably within about an hour of him arriving. Hell, he’s already done that down here.”
Wolffe sighed, but I could see what I thought was relief on his face. He didn’t think the dipshits in the three-letter agencies were going to solve the problem either. He said, “Okay, let him come. How are you looking down there?”
I said, “Not as good as you. The computer didn’t have their master plan on it. All we got was that last text.”
Shoshana cleared her voice in a theatrical way, and I exhaled, saying, “You saw the data about Syria and Palestine, right?”
“Yes, of course. CIA is talking to Mossad right now, but it’s not a lot to go on.”
I flicked my eyes to Shoshana and she gave me a slight smile. I said, “I understand, but just knowing there’s an attack coming is something we didn’t have before. I’ll bet Mossad is better at this tracking shit in their country than we are in ours.”
“What are your plans?”
I told him what I had planned with the aircraft, ending with, “Maybe we should call off the state visit until we develop this a little bit more.”
“That’s not happening. They’re already on the ground, and there’s no way the National Command Authority will run scared from a nebulous threat, and I promise Israel feels the same way. We both pummeled the hell out of Iran and we’re not going to look like we’re scared of the results.”
I exhaled and said, “Well then, let’s hope that bravado keeps them alive, because we’re out of leads right now.”
He said, “What about the van you found?”
“I kept eyes on it with the team for about six hours today. Nobody’s come back to get it, and I don’t think they are going to at this point. They know its radioactive.”
He exhaled and said, “The ceremony isn’t until eleven a.m. tomorrow, so you’ve got some time left. What are you going to do?”
I looked at the team all watching me, turned back to the screen and said, “Get some sleep and pray. It’s up to them to make a mistake now.”
Chapter 61
The Ghost woke up before the sun, lying on the thin mattress of his bunk bed and tracing the chips in the ceiling above him, the dim light of false dawn playing tricks with his mind.
Today was the day. The mission all the others depended upon, and he was at the heart of it. The keystone holding it all together.
He took a deep breath, letting his mind wander in the quiet, remembering his youth from the Palestinian refugee camps of Lebanon. His rise as a paid assassin flitted past with a little melancholy, forcing him once again to confront the naked truth that he had chosen his path, and it had been bloody. As he had a thousand times while he was incarcerated, he let his mind wander to an alternate reality, where he simply owned a fish market on the shores of the Mediterranean.
He had no idea where the dream had originated. He’d never worked in a fish market or had any friends who had. The closest he’d come was killing a man outside of one. He’d escaped through the stench of the back warehouse, the room full of men dutifully cleaning the day’s catch, and it had stuck with him. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head about how normal their lives were, even in the chaos of Beirut. It was something he’d longed for but knew he’d never attain.
Unbidden, he drifted to his incarceration, wondering how the son of the sheriff was getting along, and hoping it wasn’t too difficult. He felt a twinge of guilt making the kid fatherless, but not much. After all, the Ghost was the one who had been illegally captured, destined to spend the rest of hislife locked away. That led to thoughts of the man who’d captured him—the only one who’d ever succeeded. Twice. He wondered what the man would think after this operation. He had to know the Ghost had escaped. Would he suspect it had been the Ghost who succeeded in killing the Israeli prime minister?
He hoped so. He would like the man to realize that when he’d surrendered a second time, it had been by choice and not skill on the man’s part. Today he would show that skill and he hoped the man would make the connection when it was done. Would he wonder how it had happened? Would he have wished he could have stopped it?
He looked at his watch and saw it was past 7 a.m. Time to get ready. He rolled over and sat up, his feet dangling down to Ramzi in the bunk below. He put his hands next to his thighs and pushed off, lightly landing on the floor just loud enough to cause Ramzi to stir. He walked over to the light switch and turned it on, waking everyone up.
He waited until they were alert, then said, “It’s time to discuss final preparations. Yassir and Fatima, I’ll talk with you first.”
He took a seat on Ramzi’s bunk, patiently allowing Yassir and Fatima to collect themselves. Eventually, they came over, Fatima rubbing her face like she wanted to go back to sleep.
He said, “How did you rest? Are you feeling well?”
Yassir said, “I got enough.” Fatima simply nodded in agreement.
“Good, good. Listen, your mission, while the easiest, is the most important. If you don’t execute the diversion, we most likely won’t live to reach the airport. Is that understood?”
Yassir said, “Yes, yes, of course.”
Fatima was more vehement. “Whatever it takes to avenge Khalil, I will make sure it succeeds.”
