We’d focused on likely target areas away from the Jewish center where today’s ceremony was being held precisely because the security there was airtight. Instead, we’d driven by both the Israeli and American embassies, the Newbery Airport where they’d arrived, and the Ecoparque where we’d located the van. Unsurprisingly, it was still parked where we’d found it, the terrorists afraid to retrieve it.
I took the headset and said, “This is Pike, go.”
Veep said, “One of the numbers found on the dead guy’s handset from the park just went live, but only for a few seconds.”
“Where is it? Did you send a grid?”
“I couldn’t get one. It literally turned on and then back off within thirty seconds, but it’s live.”
Shit.I said, “Alright, keep punching holes in the sky. Any issues with doing that?”
“None that I’m aware of. The pilots might have to do a touch-and-go at the airport to pretend like they’re still running a test flight, but my down time will be minimal.”
I said, “Keep at it. Focus on the area of the city where you picked it up. It might have been running for a minute or two before you came overhead. I want to pick it up immediately next time.”
I gave the headset back to Jennifer and Shoshana said, “What did he find?”
“One of the cell numbers went active very briefly. Not enough for a lock-on. He didn’t get the chance to interrogate it.”
Shoshana nodded and said, “That’s good news and bad news. The good news is they’ve obviously run out of SIM cards and had to use an old one. The bad news is they know it can be tracked, so they are turning it on, using it, then turning it off. Most likely just sending text messages.”
“I agree. Nothing we can do now but wait for it to come back on. You want to make another lap around the city, or do you want to let Aaron and Jennifer take one?”
Shoshana said, “Their turn. I want to be here in case that phone comes up again.”
Chapter 63
Sitting in the back seat of their small SUV, the Ghost could see the security line stretching out the door of the Jewish center. The security was multilayered, with the first step being a blockade on the street a hundred meters away from the center. They’d only had to show their press passes, and they managed that successfully before being directed to another checkpoint right outside the center itself.
As they approached at a crawl down Pasteur Street, the Ghost saw the AMIA center for the first time. There was no sign announcing its presence. It was sandwiched between buildings, with a wall that stretched from the building on the left to the one on the right, with bollards and concrete blocks lining the street to its front. Scribbled on the wall in multiple different fonts—white lettering on black paint—were the names of everyone who had been killed in the 1994 bombings. The listing of the dead and the date of the bombing was the only indication of what was behind the wall. On the north end, behind concrete barricades, was a nondescript overhang with gray double doors beneath it. On the south end was an entryway of bulletproof glass, a platoon of security milling around it.
An armed man with a heavy Hebrew accent stopped their vehicle, forcing them to present their press passes once again. He let them exit the car and directed them to the glass enclosure. The Ghost said, “We have our camera equipment too. It needs to come in with us.”
The man pointed to the north end and said, “All equipment gets screenedup there.” He then pointed to the glass enclosure and said, “All personnel are checked here.”
The Ghost nodded and said, “So should we go in and get checked and come back out for the cameras?”
“No, no. Once you’re inside, you can’t come back out without repeating the entire security process. Are you all attending?”
“No. Just me and Ramzi here. Omar is just the driver. He’ll pick us back up when it’s over.”
“Okay, no problem. You two go to the personnel entrance. Have your guy drive to the equipment check. Someone will help him with the cameras, and you can meet it on the inside.”
The Ghost saw Omar’s face and thought he was beginning to panic, the realization sinking in that—instead of driving away—he would have to be standing by the X-ray machine while the equipment was scanned. The Ghost glared at him, then turned to the security guard and said, “That would be fine. Thank you.”
Without another word, he pulled Ramzi with him and entered the small line of people waiting to be admitted. They inched forward, the Ghost surreptitiously watching as Omar and two armed men removed the Pelican cases and duffel bag from the trunk, carrying them through the double doors and out of sight.
He leaned into Ramzi and said, “Get ready. If there is any alarm raised, we will run away from Omar.”
Ramzi nodded, a bead of sweat popping on his brow. They reached the window just as Omar returned to the car. The Ghost watched him drive away, slightly surprised he didn’t hear alarms, having been mentally prepared to run like a wild animal.
The man behind the counter asked for their identification and they presented their press credentials and forged passports. Looking through the window, the Ghost was surprised to see his name and picture on a clipboard. The man compared what they’d presented with the information he had, and he said, “I have three coming in on the list. Is that correct? Where is the third?”
The Ghost saw Khalil’s picture on the clipboard and said, “He didn’t make it. He has food poisoning. It’s just us.”
The man passed their credentials back through the window slot and said, “So you’re the Lebanese crew that’s willing to savage Hezbollah on the news? I was told you were coming, but didn’t believe it.”
The Ghost smiled and said, “Well, it’s true. Not everyone in Lebanon has ill will against Israel. My news channel is trying to change all of that to create prosperity for both.”
