“I’ll explain everything,” he said. “But please, we need to calm down and regroup. Now that I know you’re friends of Elad, I know whose side you’re on. I’m giving you my trust. I hope you’ll return the favor.”
“This isn’t about trust.” Skylar tapped on her phone, trying to reset the network, hoping she could find a connection. “This is about answers. About action. We need to know—”
Ballard turned from the refrigerator. He had a weapon in his hand and pointed it straight at Skylar’s chest.
“Answers,” he said, grinning. The guy looked more punchable than Friedman. “I need them too.”
Before Skylar could do anything, Ballard fired at her chest. She felt a sharp pain like a wasp’s sting. A slow, creeping cold swept through her body. She tried to charge Ballard, to knock the weapon away. She only managed two steps before she tumbled to the floor. Her phone skidded away, its screen still glowing, showing no signal.
Ballard stepped around her. Friedman jumped back to his feet, bringing up his pistol. But Ballard hit him first. Then Elad.
Both men looked like they were moving through molasses. Skylar’s muscles began to lock up. She tried to reach out, tried to stop Ballard. But her fingers curled in on themselves, everything going numb.
She was paralyzed. Her lips wouldn’t even move to curse the double-crossing bastard.
This wasn’t from the Ring of Solomon. This was from an old-fashioned chemical cocktail. He’d shot her with a damned tranq pistol.
Skylar’s vision was starting to grow blurry. Her eyelids tugged down, exhaustion sweeping through her. But as she slowly blinked, fighting against whatever Ballard had poisoned her with, she watched him tap on his phone and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch.
As soon as he did, her phone screen reported full service again. Her comms sizzled in her ear.
“Vector Two, do you read?” a voice called. “Vector Two? You may be in danger!”
As the darkness enveloped her, Skylar understood what had happened. Why everyone else in the city had still been transfixed to their electronics. The government hadn’t jammed the radio and cell networks.
Ballard had. He had cut Elad, Skylar, and Friedman off from their headquarters.
“Vector Two, please respond,” Kasim called again. “I repeat, you may be in danger. Elad Luria is a traitor.”
Too late, Skylar thought.
Then her world faded.
-29-
Naxos, Greece
Alex and Arnon were pinned down in the chapel by the sniper. Judging by where the shot had come from that killed Smadi, the gunman had a perfect vantage on the only door. They needed a way out that didn’t involve standing up right in front of the sniper’s bullets.
Alex searched the space. A few stained-glass windows adorned either side of the transept near the altar. Smaller windows, like the one that the sniper had shot through, lined the nave. But the windows along the nave were much too small to escape through.
“We can’t wait out the sniper,” Arnon said. “We’ve got an hour and a half before exfil. If we miss the boat, we’re on our own, and you can bet this asshole will have reinforcements on the way.”
Alex was still on his belly on the floor. He looked up at the broken window where the shot that killed Smadi had come from.
“These people are going to send in a crew to ransack Smadi’s hotel room too,” Alex said. “We need to get it first.”
“You know they’ll be ready for us now. And you want to go back in anyway?”
“If Smadi had papers that link his technology to Elad and whoever else is responsible, then we’d be doing millions of innocent people a great disservice by not going back into that hotel before these assholes escape with that data.”
Arnon crawled away from Smadi’s body. “You would risk your life against abysmal odds to do this?”
“I would,” Alex said. “For the United States. For Israel.”
A crooked grin crossed Arnon’s scarred face. “I am beginning to like you, Mr. Wolfe.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “The safest way out is through the west-facing stained-glass window at the back of the nave.”
“Assuming the sniper hasn’t moved. During my service in the Defense Forces, I was taught to think like a chess player when confronting snipers. Always two, three moves ahead.” She pointed at the stained-glass windows. “An intelligent sniper would assume we are at least equally intelligent. They aren’t going to watch that door for long. They may already be moving to cover those positions.”
“Did the Defense Forces also teach you how to beat a sniper?” Alex asked.
“Yes, it’s very sophisticated.” She stripped off her wig and scarf. Then she snuffed out the candles in a bowl-like apparatus filled with sand. The whole thing sat on a long stand the height of a broomstick. “This is normally where people light a candle to ask God for favors. Let’s hope that he will grant us this one.”
She balled up her scarf and put the wig on top of it.
“As I said, this technique is very advanced,” she said. “It’s called ‘bait.’ You go to the stained-glass window. As soon as the sniper fires, you break through it and run.”
“And you?” he asked.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“What if there’s two snipers out there and one is waiting for us to come out the stained-glass windows?”
“Then I hope you are a fast runner.”
Alex picked up another stand with candle offerings near a painting of the Virgin Mary. He wasn’t particularly religious, but he didn’t like destroying this humble place of worship. But any remorse about what he would do was easily outweighed by the millions of lives that would be destroyed by the Ring of Solomon.
“Ready when you are,” he said, standing near the stained-glass window.
Arnon hoisted her modified bait up toward a window in the nave as if she was going for a quick peek. Sure enough, the flash of fake hair was enough.
A deafening crack-bang sounded, echoing loudly in the cramped space. At the same moment, Alex slammed the candleholder into the stained glass. Fragments of multicolored glass exploded in a wild spray. He leapt out, rolling onto the grass outside.
He wasted no time looking around to see if there was a second sniper. He sprinted straight into the cover of the olive trees and bushes lining the dirt road to the west, aiming for the splash of white-walled houses and small garages at the bottom of the slope.
His heart thudded with an accelerating beat, his fists pumping as he ran. He heard another crack reverberate over the landscape. Was that shot intended for him—or Arnon? As soon as he tossed himself over a small stone wall, he risked a glance back toward the chapel.
The Israeli woman was nowhere in sight.
“Arnon, are you there?” he whispered into his mic.
He couldn’t imagine the grizzled Mossad agent going out that easy. They had barely been in Naxos for more than a couple hours, and this was her first time back in the field after a couple decades playing desk jockey. Slaughtered inside a rural church would be a terrible way to end her first mission back in the field.
Alex could more easily imagine returning with the news that he’d lost Arnon. Mossad would not be happy, and they tended to express their unhappiness in creative and unpleasant ways.
Before he could try her on the comms again, he saw her leap from the broken stained-glass window. She ran down the hill toward his position.
“Second house, to your left,” Alex said over their comm links. “Behind the short wall.”
She made it down the hill in a few seconds, leaping over the wall to land beside Alex. Before she could catch her breath, she hoisted him up and had them running back toward the Naxos castle.
They didn’t slow until they were back into the winding alleys filled with tourists and locals.
“What took you so long back there?” Alex asked.
She took out a small key from her pocket as they took a cur
ving set of stairs back toward Smadi’s hotel. “Figured this would make it a little easier to get us into Smadi’s hotel rather than trying to break the door down.”
“Good thinking,” Alex said.
Outwardly, he tried to appear casual. As if he and Rahel had been out sightseeing at some of the temple ruins and small towns scattered in the mountains around Naxos. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as they entered Smadi’s hotel.
The lobby was little more than an empty desk, a few potted flowers, and a white sofa. There was a bell on the desk with a sign requesting guests to ring it for service.
“No need for that,” Arnon said. “We are quite efficient at helping ourselves.”
She went behind the desk and scanned the handwritten guest ledger. As she searched for Smadi’s name, Alex couldn’t help but think of his partner, worried her part of the mission was going even worse than his.
“Command, we’re back in Naxos Old Town,” he called. “Any word from Skylar?”
“Negative,” Morris replied. “Her phone showed up for a few seconds then disappeared again.”
“What’s that mean?” Alex asked.
“Okay, so you know how I can find anyone, anywhere?” Morris said. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on with her or where she is.”
God. Alex’s gut twisted in a painful knot. The closer they seemed to be getting to the Ring of Solomon, the tighter the noose around their own necks seemed to grow.
You better be fine, Skylar, he thought. He couldn’t imagine something happening to her. Despite the relatively short time they’d worked together—and their admittedly rocky start—he’d come to view the swaggering, sarcastic former pilot as one of his closest allies.
Hell, he’d say it: his closest friend.
He tried to ignore the burgeoning guilt, the overwhelming sense that he was responsible for whatever had happened to her. Especially since he’d been the one to suggest splitting up. It would be like losing his brother all over again. Knowing that he could have changed the outcome with a simple decision.
“Found it,” Arnon said, looking up from the ledger. “Fourth floor.”
They jogged up the stairs to Smadi’s room, and Arnon unlocked the door.
For a place that appeared small and humble on the outside, the interior of Smadi’s suite was everything Alex would have expected at a five-star resort, albeit slightly more cramped. Even being on the run, Smadi hadn’t sacrificed access to a plush four-poster bed, a bathroom with a claw-foot soaking tub, and a fully stocked wine cooler.
Arnon began sifting through the room, ripping the place apart as Alex locked the door and jammed the handle with a chair from the dining table. He tore through the drawers and closet, expecting to see clothes or notebooks. Something. Anything.
Each was empty.
There was very little evidence to show anyone had been staying here. Smadi’s suitcase rested on the floor in the closet, all his clothes neatly folded inside as if he was ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
The only thing he seemed to have left out was a half-finished plate of food and a glass on the rooftop patio. Alex glanced through the sliding glass door and spotted a hot tub beside an outdoor sofa and chair set that overlooked the Naxos Old Town out toward the sea.
For a man afraid for his life, Smadi still seemed to know how to enjoy his last few fleeting moments.
“There’s nothing in here,” Arnon said, standing over the feathers pouring from the sliced-open mattress. The pillows lay at her feet, equally butchered. “No computer. No files. No folders.”
“Do you think someone already searched the place?” Alex asked.
“Hard to say,” she said. “No sign of a forced entry.”
“They could’ve used a key like us.”
She nodded.
“I guess we—”
The door handle jiggled.
They both went silent.
Alex crept to the door and peered out the peephole. Three men stood outside. One had a large duffel bag strapped across his back. The perfect size for a sniper rifle.
“They’re here,” Alex whispered. “We beat them.”
“Then what did Smadi do with his things?” Arnon asked. “Maybe he lied to us.”
“Maybe,” Alex said.
But he wasn’t sure. What would Smadi have gained in those last few minutes by telling them about his files here? Had it been a trap? Was Smadi trying to get them killed?
Gruff voices spoke outside the door, and Alex peeked through the peephole again. The three men had torn out pistols.
“We need to move,” Alex whispered.
But he’d be damned if they ran away empty-handed.
Smadi had been so frightened. Desperate to admit anything to save his life. He didn’t think the man had been lying. His stash had to be here somewhere.
They’d torn apart the room. Looked in the air ducts, even. What was he missing?
Voices grumbled outside the door.
“No more delay,” Arnon said.
“We cannot let these people have Smadi’s files. There must be—” And then Alex looked out onto the rooftop patio again. “The hot tub.”
One of the men threw himself against the door. The door frame cracked and splintered. Arnon shoved the shredded mattress against it as Alex ran out to the hot tub. He peeled away the planks hiding the pumps and motors beneath it.
This had to be it. Because if it wasn’t, they were already out of time.
The door shook again. A loud split tore through the door frame, and more wood peeled away. Several gunshots exploded through the mattress and plunged into the wall.
“Wolfe, we need to leave,” Arnon said, walking toward him at a hunch. She had her gun aimed at the door.
Alex shined the light of his cell phone into the cavernous space beneath the tub. Just dust and gravel and—
There!
In the back corner, he spotted a backpack. He dragged it out.
Another flurry of shots blew through the mattress, feathers flying from each new hole. Another bang, and the mattress fell backward. The door tore off its hinges, and the chair under the door handle splintered.
“Go!” Arnon said.
She sprinted toward the end of the roof and leapt. She soared over a four-story drop to land on a neighboring building’s roof, rolled to absorb the momentum, and jumped back to her feet.
Alex slipped Smadi’s bag over his shoulders and raced after her. He took the jump, arms pinwheeling, boots slamming into the other roof. The impact shuddered through his bones, adrenaline absorbing any pain.
They sped over other rooftop patios like that, half running and half falling. Putting as much distance as they could between themselves and those gunmen.
This was the second time in a week Alex found himself making an escape like this. But at least now he wasn’t dealing with a partner who had been out from the Ring of Solomon. Even as he raced to get away, he had to force thoughts of Skylar from his head. Tried to ignore the danger she must be in and how helpless he was to assist her.
“Hurry, Wolfe!” Arnon said.
They hurtled past what appeared to be a newlywed couple enjoying their honeymoon in a hot tub overlooking the city. No time to apologize. The woman started screaming, and the man stood up, fists up like he was ready to brawl.
Just run.
With all the buildings of Old Town pressed together, at least they had ample space to run. Air conditioning units, open windows, plants, more hot tubs, and even small swimming pools became a parkour runner’s dream.
They heard distant shouts from the three men after them. Alex stole a glance over his shoulder to see the trio hadn’t let up.
“This way,” Arnon said, cutting suddenly right behind a privacy wall on a patio. She immediately froze, sticking out her hand to pull Alex against the wall beside her. “We cannot let them follow us to the boat.”
She slipped out a suppressed pistol from her holster.
Alex did the same.
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“We are out of sight,” she said, looking around. “No one will miss them here. And no one can identify us.”
They heard the sounds of footsteps pounding over the roof. Headed toward them.
Alex held his breath.
All three men shot past their hiding place, pausing at the edge of the roof near a table and chairs. Alex was too far away to pick out what they were saying, but the cadence sounded confused.
Arnon quickly cleared up their confusion. Two shots into each of their backs. The trio went down in a heap, one flipping over the side of the building and landing on the pathway beyond with a heavy slap.
“There,” Arnon said. “Now we can leave Naxos.”
-30-
Frederick, MD
Kasim pushed up his reading glasses and sat beside Morris in Vector’s operation center. The analyst was jittery with caffeine, tapping his pen against the lid of his notebook, but dark bags slung beneath his eyes. They were all tired, running on fumes.
“Tell me some good news,” Kasim said.
“Wolfe and Arnon are reporting successful exfil,” Morris said. “Mossad is going to take them to Athens. They’ve got a safe house there to drop off the packages they recovered from Smadi.”
“Good,” Kasim said. “Any word on Skylar?”
“Not a thing. Mossad is reporting the same.”
“What the hell is going on?” Kasim pushed himself away from the desk. He stood and started to pace. “It sounded like they might have found Ballard. And just like that, they all went dark.”
“All the cell towers around them are still functional,” Morris said. “No issues with sat comms, either. It’s a localized outage, for sure.”
“How localized?” Kasim asked.
“Maybe just Cruz and the two Mossad agents with her.”
Kasim’s skin prickled, a sudden wave of ice cutting through his bones. “If Wolfe and Rahel are right, then Elad Luria played us.” He pounded one fist into his other open palm. “Wolfe and Cruz seemed so convinced by his story. Even Rahel bought it, and she’s the most skeptical, cynical person I’ve ever met.”
Demon Mind (Vector Book 2) Page 26
