Chapter 67
Shoshana tried to go past me to the bulletproof door and I grabbed her arm. She whirled around, her face a mask of rage, and
I said, “Don’t enter. He’s serious about turning everyone into human stew.”
She said, “He ordered you not to follow. Not me.”
I said, “I’m pretty sure he was speaking about anyone at all when he mentioned me. Wait until someone from the outside says
it’s clear.”
The courtyard had calmed down somewhat, with the guests having been rushed into the multistoried building behind the stage
like they were evading a tornado. The only thing remaining in the courtyard were the shattered bodies of the dead and the
security personnel, and their response was chaotic, to say the least.
The men and women designated to protect the ceremony—some in uniform and others in suits—were all rushing about shouting orders
and talking on radios. Each element—from the diplomatic security service for the secretary of state to the prime minister’s
personal security to the hired guns for the Jewish center itself—were frantically informing their higher command, but they
were working independently of each other. I could tell there would be no immediate coordinated response.
A guy in a security uniform smashed the Ghost’s camera on the ground next to us, exposing the limbs of a crossbow. I looked
at it and said, “I told you the Ghost didn’t do any amateur-hour shit. There’s your ‘robo-taxi.’ ”
She said, “He’s getting away and you seem content to let him.”
“He might be right outside this wall surrounded by guns in a standoff. I’m not going to exit now and spook him into setting off his vest.”
“What if he’s not? What if they all let him go just like we did?”
“We still have his cell. He’s holding a beacon and doesn’t realize it, but we need a little bit more finesse. We need a scalpel
here, not a sledgehammer. If he’s gone, I don’t want to give the location to some local yokels like we saw raid the hotel.
Where is the vaunted Kidon team?”
She shook her head and said, “They stood down once the ceremony started. They’re patrolling the exfiltration route to the
airport in separate vehicles. Even if we called them, they wouldn’t be able to form a coherent response immediately.”
The bulletproof door opened and four men in uniform toting rifles came barreling through. Shoshana grabbed one and began speaking
in Hebrew.
I called Jennifer, saying, “Are you guys still in the hotel?”
“Yes. There’s something on the news about a suicide bomber at the Jewish center. What happened?”
“Too long to tell you on the phone. Basically, it’s a shit show. The Ghost is gone, and he’s taken the Israeli prime minister
and Amanda Croft as hostages. I don’t know if he’s going to kill them, release them and run, or what, but I need you to call
Veep and get a fix on his phone—if he’s still got it on.”
“How on earth did he manage to take them hostage from that fortress?”
Shoshana grabbed my arm and I said, “Stand by.”
She said, “He got in a car and drove away. They literally let him drive away.”
I nodded, pointed at the door, and said on the net, “Koko, we’re coming to you. Get that fix. The Ghost is mobile in a vehicle.”
She said, “Roger all,” and we raced out the door, seeing another scrum of security debating what had just happened.
Our vehicle was right where we’d left it when we’d come screeching up to the ceremony.
It had been a little bit of a fight to get inside, and if I hadn’t had Shoshana speaking Hebrew and her Israeli cred, we’d have been left outside waiting while the Ghost successfully assassinated the Israeli prime minister.
As it was, if they’d let us in as soon as we’d arrived, instead of me having to fight past them, we would have prevented all of it, because the prime minister would have never taken the stage.
We jogged to our car, ignoring a guy in civilian clothes who was demanding we stop.
Shoshana hit the gas and I called Jennifer, saying, “Koko, Koko, we’re inbound. Meet us on the street. Bring a radio to talk
to Veep.”
She said, “Coming down now. Phone is still active and Veep says he’s headed to the airport.”
The airport? What does he think he’s going to do, waltz onto a commercial flight with a bomb strapped to his ass?
I said, “He’s literally at the airport, or is he on the road that leads to it?”
“He’s turned off onto the road that goes to the airport. It doesn’t go anywhere else.”
“Roger all. I’ll be at your location in three minutes.”
Shoshana drove like she had lights spinning on top of our car, weaving and bobbing around the traffic. She pulled in front
of our hotel and Jennifer and Aaron jumped into the back seat.
Jennifer said, “The cell stopped at the general aviation section. It didn’t continue to the commercial terminal. Have you
checked your phones?”
“What do you mean?”
“The hostage-taking has made the news. This is about to blow up.”
I pulled out my phone and went to an aggregate news site, seeing one story after another about car bombs, suicide vests, and
the kidnapping of the Israeli prime minister and the US secretary of state. While I was staring at it, another breaking news
story appeared. I read the headline and said, “Call Veep. Tell him to land the Rock Star Bird.”
Jennifer did, and Shoshana said, “Why?”
“Those assholes just hijacked a plane. They’re in the air.”