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I said, “Hey, sir, you’ve been here before. Only you used to be me, on the ground. I understand the pressure, but give me some time here. It’ll close.”

“Pike, we don’t have time. The Iranians are starting to react. We may not be able to control this. I needproofit isn’t them, or they may give us the proof with a war. They’re ramping up everything in the Hormuz Strait. They’re becoming convinced we’re going to attack them because of the assassinations, and they have very little time to preempt that.”

“Then talk to them. Can’t anyone talk to them? Do we have no contacts at all?”

“We have no diplomatic relations with them.”

“I understand that, sir, but we have contacts. Don’t we?”

The question hung in the air, and he got quiet. I said, “Sir, don’t we have someone? Anyone?”

I thought,How on earth could we not have at least one back channel with Iran? Even if it’s secret? We’re going to go to war because we can’t talk?

And I realizedIhad a contact. How I was the sole human on the face of the American defense establishment that did was beyond me.

I said, “Sir, I have someone in Lebanon. Do you want me to reach out?”

“Who?”

“A Druze. He’s the guy who helped me capture the Ghost years ago. A good dude. But he’s also tied into Hezbollah. The real ones, not that Iraqi militia. He can get us through to someone.”

“Pike, a Druze in Lebanon isn’t going to stop this thing. He’s not even Muslim.”

“I get that, but heisconnected. He stopped that asshole Lucas Kane from killing the peace envoy. Remember? I didn’t tell you guys then, but he did it with Hezbollah’s help.”

I saw his eyes grow, him saying, “Are you telling me you used a sanctioned terrorist organization to complete a mission?”

I leaned back in my chair in frustration, then just started rattlingoff facts: “Yes, sir, I did. And it worked. You didn’t seem to mind then. The facts are what they are: A Croatian guy tried to kill our commander of the Fifth Fleet, which we found through a Syrian refugee in Switzerland. That’s not an anomaly. That’s a fact. The Croatian is employed by this weird-ass order known as the Knights of Malta here in Rome, and he made a Zello call from Bahrain with a geolocation to the site of a crime scene in the EUR neighborhood of Rome related to a serial killer. The inspector of that crime scene was assaulted tonight by the killer. He was not Iranian. We interdicted him with the help of Creed as he was about to kill the inspector. I’ll leave out the gross-ass sex stuff, but that guy is involved in all of it. He’s nuts, and he’s also very, very smart.”

I leaned back and said, “This is not about Iran. It’s about the End of Days in the Bible.”

He said, “What on earth does that mean?”

I looked at Jennifer and said, “I’m honestly not sure. It’s something Shoshana believes, and the inspector has evidence pointing the same way. There’s some crazy cult stuff going on, and it’s tied into the Knights of Malta. They’re trying to cause an apocalyptic war to cause what they think will be the second coming of Christ.”

Wolffe rubbed his eyes and said, “And you want me to take that to the president of the United States? Seriously? You want me to go tell him a chivalric organization that’s been around since the Crusades, known worldwide for helping refugees in war-torn countries regardless of religion, backed by the Catholic Church, is trying to start a war with Iran so they can ‘cleanse’ the earth?”

I slapped the table and said, “No, damn it. I’m not sayingtheywant to do it. I’m saying peopleinit do.”

I heard a knock on the door and said, “Hang on. Someone’s here.”

Wolffe said, “Hopefully your wayward minions.”

Jennifer opened it, and sure enough, it was Knuckles and Brett, both smiling. They came in and I said, “Hey, so you’re not going to jail for the next twenty years?”

“Nope. My little booty call paid off. Amanda Croft brought some leverage and we were given dip creds. They let us go.”

“Dip creds” were diplomatic credentials. I said, “Well, considering you were the target, I’m not really shocked. It’s not like you tried to blowyourselfup.”

Brett laughed and said, “So what’s going on here?”

I pointed at the screen and said, “Wolffe wants some proof that you weren’t targeted by Iran, or he’s going to launch some missiles.”

Wolffe said, “Pike, cut that shit out. Knuckles, what happened?”

I stood up and he took my seat saying, “State took over. Gave us cover, and we were released. They think it’s one more attack in a string of them. They were glad to get rid of us and pass the case to their intelligence agencies. We’re free and clear, but the embassy here sure is confused about us.”

Wolffe laughed and said, “Well, they can be confused all day long. President Hannister has your back. Do you have anything I can take him to prove it wasn’t some militia from Iraq under the sway of Iran?”