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“Maybe. I get it’s screwy. That’s why we’re going.”

He thought about it for a few seconds, then looked at Knuckles and Brett saying, “You guys are good with this?”

Brett said, “Hell yeah, sir. We’ve been sitting on our ass for close to a year because of the pandemic. At this point, I’d be okay going if you told me I was going to get arrested upon landing.”

Wolffe turned to me and said, “What about Amena?”

“Veep and Kylie are already at my house. They can stay with her.”

Wolffe sighed and said, “So you’ve got it all figured out. I was wondering why there was a week gap between a wedding rehearsal and the real wedding. Tell me you didn’t set all this up in advance and ambush me.”

I’d laughed and said, “No, sir, not at all. That week thing was Jennifer’s idea to get you guys some vacation time. That’s all. I swear I was as surprised as you when Shoshana broached it.”

He’d said, “You’ll be back for the wedding? One week?”

I grinned. “Yes, sir. Promise.”

“You’ll get no Taskforce help on this. Don’t be calling my office for reach-back hacking support or analytical help. You’re on your own here.”

“I get it. Right up until they start killing Americans, right?”

He nodded and said, “Yeah, that would change the equation. Which is why I’m allowing this buffoonery to go.”

“Understood... but I was thinking about the Rock Star bird... since it’s leased to Grolier Recovery Services anyway and sitting here in Charleston... you know, so I can get home rapidly for the wedding.”

He shook his head, but had agreed, a tacit admission that he thought I could potentially do some good.

Chapter 12

Garrett tossed another newspaper on the desk and said, “What the fuck? Why isn’t anyone talking about Iran? Every report is that each death is some individual event. It’s barely making the front page. The damn killing of the ambassador to the Holy See is already off the news cycle. And unless you’re in Paris, nobody’s talking about the death of the Shin Bet agent. Even in Paris it’s a back-and-forth about getting rid of refugees, not an assassination by Keta’ib Hezbollah.”

Michelangelo said, “I know. Nobody’s talking about the evidence. It’s like it’s been hidden.”

“That’s not going to work for us,” said Garrett. “We need the press on this building up the tension so when we do the final hit in Israel, it’s a tripwire. We need all the hawks to be actively talking about attacking Iran, making their case. All we have right now is the usual blustering because of rocket attacks in Iraq and the smuggling of weapons into Syria.”

Leonardo said, “Surely someone’s talking about it. I mean, in the CIA and Mossad. They have to know and have to be discussing it.”

“They might be, but that’s not going to cut it.”

Raphael said, “It’ll leak. It always does. Sooner or later, someone’s going to leak the connection.”

Garrett glared and said, “Thereisno connection to the ambassador. He’s categorized as an accidental death.”

Raphael shifted in his seat, saying nothing. Michelangelo said, “That wasn’t our fault. We couldn’t predict he would go full-speed into the wall.”

Garrett waved his hand, saying, “I know, but it’s frustrating. How are we looking in Bahrain? Did we transfer the funds to Qassim?”

“Not yet. He hasn’t passed the new account information. I think he’s laying low after theRamsadhit.”

“I thought they had to have that money for the target in Bahrain?”

“That’s what he said.”

“That hit is supposed to be in two days. Either they need the money or they don’t.”

Leonardo said, “I’ll contact him again. Ask what the situation is, but honestly, without the money I don’t think that target will be hit in two days.”

Garrett thought for a moment, then said, “I agree. We’re not sending him any more money. We’ll take it to Bahrain ourselves.” He turned to Donatello and said, “You’ll go. I want our eyes on this to make sure that hit happens like we want. This has to make the news.”