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And Raphael realized why he’d made them leave their own guns in their bags. He said, “We’re not putting those on, and you’ve put your life in jeopardy by suggesting it. We’ve paid you well.”

Tariq laughed and said, “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not going to shoot you if you don’t, and you’ve only paid me half. I’ll just take the rest of those prepaid debit cards and leave you here. I won’t force you to put them on. Once again, this isn’t a kidnapping, but just as you have your secrets, I must have mine.”

Leonardo said, “Let’s do it.”

Raphael said, “Fuck that. Why?”

“Donatello and I had to do the same thing once before. In Tripoli. It worked out.”

Raphael reluctantly shoved his head into the bag, glaring at Tariq as he did so. He felt the vehicle leave the gas station, then leave the paved road, bouncing for the next hour down the slope and into the valley, the roads coarse and rustic, the shocks on the vehicle groaning in defiance as the frame of the vehicle traversed the pitted trail.

Eventually, the vehicle stopped and Tariq said, “You may remove the hoods.”

They did so, seeing a small compound around them, cinder-block buildings without siding, sheet metal roofs, and naked power lines going from building to building.

Tariq said, “We can eat here while we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“We can’t attempt to cross the next mountain range until dusk, reaching the top in the darkness, then crossing the other side right before dawn. To do otherwise is dangerous.”

Tariq opened the door and said, “Come on. I have fruit and cheese for you. I’m like a Lebanese tour guide. No matter how much you pay, I promise a grand dinner but give you only snacks.”

He laughed at his joke, and Raphael heard gunfire no more than a hundred meters away. A lot of gunfire. He reached inside for his backpack, saying, “Enough of this shit.”

The driver stopped him with a hand, shaking his head. Tariq said, “You’re safe here in my care.”

“What the hell is the gunfire? Rebel troops fighting the government or something?”

Tariq’s eyes widened in surprise, then he began laughing, saying, “No, no, no. That’s not fighting. That’s training.”

“Who the hell is training out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“The same people you’re going to meet on the other side of this mountain chain in Syria. Hezbollah. The Party of God.”

Chapter 55

Walking toward the Oval Office, Alexander Palmer whispered, “Can I ask why there’s a priest with you?”

George Wolffe said, “Just in case I need last rites.”

They reached a couch about twenty feet away from the door and Wolffe turned, saying, “Father, if you could sit out here until I call you, I’d appreciate it.”

The priest nodded, taking a seat, and, like everyone else in the modern world, pulled out his phone and began scrolling.

Wolffe and Palmer kept walking, and Palmer said, “Seriously, why’s he here?”

Wolffe said, “Because I’m about to tell a story involving the belief in the end of the world, a Catholic organization from the Crusades, and a serial killer. He’s here for backup for questions I can’t answer.”

They entered the oval office and Palmer grabbed his arm, saying, “What?”

Before Wolffe could respond, President Hannister said, “George, come on in. We have little time.”

Wolffe pulled away from Palmer and said, “Yes, sir, that’s correct, because I’ve got Pike primed for an operation tonight that could help solve this whole riddle, but he’s going to need Omega authority to penetrate what’s basically the embassy of a sovereign country.”

All eyes in the room snapped to him at the words.

Wolffe advanced to a table between the two couches holding theprincipals to his left and right, facing the president behind the Resolute Desk.