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“Basically, it’s stitches and a hole through his shoulder. Didn’t hit a bone, so he’ll only be in a sling for a while with some muscle loss in his lat. He’ll come out of it with a cool scar to show his grandkids someday.”

He smiled and said, “That’s good news. When he went down, I thought for sure he’d been hit bad. What’s Jennifer’s status?”

“She’s dealing with the rental car agency and a ‘hit and run.’ I told her to let the insurance company handle it and to load up our luggage on the Rock Star bird. Basically, get her ass down here so I don’t have to stay in this hotel with the same pair of underwear.”

He laughed, and I said, “Don’t worry, I told her to bring yours too. Did you get anything more from Creed?”

He looked at the tablet on the table and said, “Nothing yet. Let him do his work.”

We’d finally found a cab in the sea of people either flocking to the scene of the explosion or trying to get away from it. We’d had to walk about a mile before we found one, and by that time, Brett had gotten us a reservation at a hotel and convention center called the Jaypee Palace just outside the city center, but they only had one room left. At least ithad two queen beds. Apparently, every government agency and reporter was descending on the Agra Fort and rooms were getting scarce. The cab got us to the hotel in record time, as it was just south of the Taj Mahal, and we checked in looking a little worse for wear.

The receptionist asked if we were on a tour, and Brett said yes, only to realize she was asking if the tour was going to pay for our room. When she asked for the company, he fessed up and told her no, that we were doing our own tour, and she checked us in, probably thinking we were a couple. Luckily, she didn’t ask where our luggage was.

We went to the room and Brett immediately slaved the phone to his tablet, then the tablet to the hotel Wi-Fi. He called Creed, Creed did his magic through the miracle of the internet, walking Brett through instructions on the tablet, and then we sat back and waited.

That was six hours ago, and after getting the update from Jennifer, I was getting a little antsy.

I said, “That attack was something out of left field. I really want to know what he found in that phone.”

Brett stood up and said, “Well, he’s working as fast as he can. Let’s go get some dinner at the ‘grand buffet.’ Maybe he’ll have something by the time we get back.”

I agreed and we left our room, walking through a labyrinth of hallways until we reached the reception area again, having missed the entrance to the buffet. Out the windows of the entrance I could see the sun was setting, the splash of orange impressive against the low skyline.

I asked the receptionist for directions, and she told me it was one floor down, but we’d have to charge it to our room since we weren’t on a tour. Apparently, this place stayed in business with tour busses. We followed her instructions, and sure enough, entered a giant room full of tables, food stations liberally sprinkled throughout, all with different choices. Chinese, sushi, Indian, Western, you had your pick.

We separated, going through the lines, then found a table. I started shoveling food in my mouth, my body finally realizing it hadn’t had nourishment in a long while. After the adrenaline of this day, I had expended quite a bit of energy, first with the Chinese, then with the terrorist.

In between bites, I said, “What do you make of that attack in the parking lot?”

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, clearly it’s the Chinese, but what the hell? Why are they attacking us? Is it some organized crime thing, or is it the government? What do you think?”

“I think it’s the government. I think it’s the MSS and they’re behind these so-called ‘Islamic terrorists.’ I think they zeroed in on us when we stopped the attack in Goa, and they’re still worried we’re a threat.”

I took another bite, reflecting, then said, “I originally thought they were trying to kill Thakkar, but I’m not so sure now. They’re calling that attack in Goa an Islamic copycat of the 2008 Mumbai slaughter, but after Jennifer saw the Chinese in the hotel, I believed that was just a cover to eliminate him. After today, I’m not so sure.”

“You don’t think they’re behind it now?”

“No, no, I still think China has something to do with this, but I’m not so sure it’s Thakkar anymore. He was on the grounds for over thirty minutes before we even arrived. That terrorist could have launched the drone at any time while he was walking around, and most assuredly could have done so once he saw that helo come in to pick Thakkar up. He didn’t.”

“Well, theyarecalling him an Islamic terrorist, and if that’s true, maybe he’s just crazy. You can’t control crazy.”

“He’s not a Muslim.”

Brett looked at me in surprise and said, “Why do you say that? It’s all over the news that he is.”

“It’s also all over the news that he was killed by the drone in a misfire. And yet we both know he has two bullet holes in his chest. They know that too. They’re just saying something to placate the public.”

“So how do you know they weren’t Muslims?”

“You already said it. Because China knows Islamic terrorists are fanatics. Because they know they can’t control a man whose sole identity is ideology. They’d never do it, just like we’d never do it.”

“Wediddo it. In Afghanistan during the Soviet occupation.”

“Yeah, well, we learned that lesson the hard way, didn’t we. Trust me, China’s not tying their wagon to a bunch of fanatics. This is something else.”

“Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe they’re learning the same lesson we did.”

“What’s that?”