by Ty Patterson
Zeb had been expecting it. He had guessed what would be declared. Still, he found himself on his feet along with the entire audience, clapping and cheering. Beth and Meghan were hollering and punching the air in delight.
President Baruti leaned forward. ‘The State of Palestine thanks the Israeli nation and promises to co-exist peacefully with our dearest neighbor. We will have our differences, but what we have in common is so much more.’
The crowd roared thunderously.
President Morgan allowed the cheering and applause to continue for a good few minutes. At last, he raised his hand. The roar from the audience became quieter, but not by much.
And the applause that followed his next words could be heard around the world.
‘On this day, from Jerusalem, the holiest city in the world, peace will spread and embrace the world.’
Epilogue
New York
One Month from the Announcement
* * *
The world changed, but in some ways it didn’t.
Riots broke out in Jerusalem following the historic declaration. Hundreds of people marched in Israel, demanding Cantor’s resignation.
Demonstrations in support of him were organized, too.
The Arab states were taken aback by the announcement. Israel was the enemy. That was what thousands of their children grew up believing. Now it wasn’t as stark as that. They were wary. They welcomed the historic decision, but also said words had to be backed up by deeds.
‘Israel is playing games,’ Iran’s Supreme Leader thundered in several broadcasts. ‘It will not allow Palestine to exist.’
His speeches won cheers in his country but not in many others.
Major General Zarab Tousi wasn’t seen in public. He was still in office, still heading the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, but keeping a very low profile.
Prime Minister Yago Cantor had wanted to lodge a strong diplomatic protest against Iran and bring its involvement up in the United Nations.
Levin, Levitsky, Shoshon and Spiro reminded him that the Islamic country’s role had been hushed up.
‘Let the Supreme Leader and Tousi twist,’ Shoshon said. ‘Let them wonder what game we are playing.’
‘You think the leader knew of this?’
‘He would know some details. He and Tousi are very close.’
‘We can’t allow such acts to go unpunished.’
‘We won’t, sir,’ Levin replied, flinty-eyed.
* * *
The Israeli and Palestinian governments progressed with the negotiations. Borders, capitals, governance, settlements—legal and otherwise—were always going to be the thorniest issues. Expectedly, those would take time. Both countries said a full agreement would take at least a year to work out.
Zeb switched off from the headlines after a while. He was still bitterly unhappy with himself. Especially when he discovered how Eliel and Navon had duped him in the first place.
The two had been in Jerusalem, killing Maryam Razak and Farhan Ba. Yet their personal cell phones showed they were in Amman.
He initially thought the kidon had managed to hack into their devices’ location data. Beth and Meghan looked into that. Their finding was indisputable. The phones and even their laptops hadn’t been tampered with. Levin confirmed the same.
And then, when Beth was buying a postcard just before they left Jerusalem, it came to him.
‘Their devices never left Amman,’ he spoke aloud.
‘What?’ Beth paid for her purchase and followed him and Meghan outside the store.
He pointed at a post office. ‘That’s how they did it.’
Meghan caught on. ‘They posted the devices to themselves. So that they would reach them after the killing.’
Levin’s people took apart their residence in Ein Kerem, as did the police. The place was clean. The burner phones on the men, however, had enough data on them. Call logs, the majority of which were to a disconnected number. They didn’t have much success with that one.
‘That must be Tousi’s,’ Zeb said thoughtfully when the ramsad broke the news to him. ‘He would have set up a temporary number and bounced the calls through several exchanges.’
‘We got another number, though, and that led to an arrest. One Jud Lipman, a forger in Beersheba. He made those masks. He was also the one who mimicked Eliel’s foster mother’s voice. It wasn’t just her voice … other family members as well. He was the one who answered all our calls.’
Other pieces fell into place. Gait analysis matched a person at Moscow’s Domodedovo Airport to that of Magal. The timeline fit. It was before Raskov’s killing. His absences to visit his mother now made sense.
Levin’s cybersecurity team performed extensive security checks. It didn’t find any virus but said it was possible the dead operatives had installed one. The team implemented several measures and also came up with its own virus that could be deployed against Iran.
The ramsad worked on reshaping his organization. He formed a small team, with Carmel, Dalia, Riva and Adir. The five of them looked at every mission and kidon and determined whether any were compromised. They rewrote ops procedures, and how kidon were vetted.
‘We are rebuilding Mossad from scratch,’ he told Zeb, who nodded.
I would have done the same.
‘You didn’t have to kill Eliel,’ Levin told Zeb one evening when the team was back in New York.
Meghan looked sharply at the phone and then at him. Beth frowned. She didn’t understand what the Mossad director meant.
Zeb knew, and he attempted to stave off his friend’s probing. ‘I had no choice, Avichai. He had an M16. He was bringing it down on me.’
‘I have seen you shoot in the most desperate situations. You have always picked your shots.’
‘You are forgetting I was injured, bleeding. There wasn’t much time to conduct a detailed threat vector analysis.’
‘You killed him because he was better off dead. If he was alive, he could have become a thorn in Mossad’s side. He could have exposed operations, he could have revealed how he hoodwinked all of us. Tousi could have played his dirty tricks. He could have started rumors on social media. No, you killed him because you thought it would be best for my career.’
‘You give me too much credit.’
‘Perhaps I don’t give you enough.’
‘About Tousi.’
‘Yes?’
‘Let’s begin.’
And Zeb Carter and his Warriors began planning a joint mission with Mossad.
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‘Drive, Mister.’ A gun pressed tight against the back of Zeb Carter’s head.
He didn’t move for a moment, stunned at the turn of events.
‘Move,’ the speaker gritted his teeth. He jammed the weapon harder. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’
It was just after noon. A New York afternoon in the summer. Bright sunlight on the sidewalks. Hordes of chattering tourists, cameras around their necks, following their tour guides dutifully. Office workers returning to their workplaces after hastily snatched meals. Skateboarders speeding through crowds in the daredevil way only they could manage.
Zeb had been out for lunch as well, along with Meghan and Beth. A Vietnamese joint near their Columbus Avenue office had opened up and the younger sister had talked them into trying it out.
And so they had gone.
They had returned from Jerusalem a few months back, high from the events of their previous mission. Israel had recognized Palestine as an independent country and the two nations were working on the finer details of a historic accord.
That single development had dramatically reduced terrorist incidents around the world. Zeb’s Warriors were benefiting from that lull. Noth
ing much was happening at the Agency.
‘You want to join?’ he asked the others as he followed the sisters.
‘Nah,’ Broker replied distractedly and focused on bettering his golf shot. Bear and Chloe, engrossed in something on their cell phones didn’t look up. Bwana and Roger were playing, aiming shots at the hoop on a wall. The two men waved them away.
Zeb went with the Petersen twins. Him and sunshine and laughter. He had taken their SUV to the joint and parked it in an empty space.
It had happened on their return.
He had slid into the driver’s seat, Meghan, next to him at the front, Beth in the rear. Standard seating when the three of them were in a vehicle.
He saw the blur of motion from the corner of his eyes. Felt the rear door open and bodies slid in.
By the time it registered on him and the sisters, it was too late. A barrel was digging into the back of his head.
His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror. He was still stunned. Anger growing in him at his carelessness.
I’m losing my edge. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, at possible threats.
He blinked when he took in the assailants. Two of them. Male and female. The former’s weapon was on Zeb, the woman’s on Beth.
They’re kids! In their teens.
The boy looked to be sixteen, the girl a year or two younger.
Not that I am an expert on ages.
The gun at his head jabbed again. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? You want to die?’ the boy shouted. ‘You,’ he yelled at Meghan, ‘don’t turn back or your friend dies.’
Zeb looked swiftly at the elder sister who nodded imperceptibly. She too had caught the undertone of fear in the kid’s voice.
He’s scared. He isn’t a seasoned carjacker. Could be his first such gig.
‘Where to?’ he asked.
‘Columbus Avenue. Near the Lincoln Center.’
He turned the key, flashed his indicator and joined the stream of traffic.
Do they know who we are? They’re aware of our office location?
It didn’t seem likely. Zeb and his crew worked in a covert outfit that only a handful of people knew of. It was called the Agency, its director reported only to the president. It went after terrorists and international criminals.
The two kids didn’t fit that bill. They were smartly dressed, the boy in a Tee over jeans, neat haircut. The girl, her eyes wide, in a mid-calf dress. Both blonde-haired, green eyes, well-shaped features. They looked like high-school students.
Not scruffy, though. Preppy. Private school?
‘Where exactly on Columbus Avenue?’
‘I’ll tell you when we get there,’ the boy snarled.
There were ways Zeb could overpower his assailant. The gun was too close to his head. A swift move to the left or right and the barrel would be exposed. An elbow to the rear, break the kid’s jaw and the tables would be turned. Beth could easily overcome the girl.
He didn’t do any of that, though. Neither did Beth. Meghan didn’t react.
The three of them could read one another without having to speak. They wanted to see how this would play out. It didn’t feel like a mugging or car theft.
Ahead, a light turned red. Traffic slowed. Zeb eased on the gas.
‘Go!’ the boy showered spittle on the back of his neck. ‘I’ll tell you when to stop.’
‘You don’t want me crashing in those vehicles,’ Zeb explained reasonably. ‘We’ll draw attention. Cops might show up. I’m guessing you don’t want that.’
‘Please, mister,’ the girl broke her silence. ‘Drive as fast as you can.’
Her voice was breaking. The two of them are close to breaking down. They’re just about holding it together.
He looked in the mirror, at the girl, whose jaw was set tight. She stared straight ahead, didn’t meet his eyes. Her gun was jammed in Beth’s side.
The light changed. The snake of vehicles moved. Zeb accelerated. Overtook a cab. Honked to get a lumbering van to make way, got an upraised finger as they swept past.
New York. Attitude first, manners second.
Lincoln Center loomed in the distance. Their office building to their left. The kids didn’t look at it as it slid behind them.
Nope, this isn’t about us.
‘Left, at West 62nd Street.’
Zeb turned on his blinker and navigated. He felt the boy’s breath on his neck. Could hear him breathe harshly. Gulping as he swallowed. He spread out the fingers of his left palm.
A message to the twins.
Be ready.
A car nosed out of its parking space. He floored his SUV and squeezed in its place before another vehicle could.
‘What are you doing?’ the boy screamed. ‘I asked you to drive.’
Zeb turned off the ignition and swung around in his seat.
‘Shoot me.’
‘What? Can’t you see I have a gun?’
‘Yes. Use it. Go ahead.’
The boy swallowed. His face turned red. The gun, a Glock, shook in his hand, its barrel pointing at Zeb’s face.
‘Mister,’ the girl’s voice trembled.
He and Meghan looked at her. Beth was watching as well.
‘Please do as he says,’ a tear rolled down the young woman’s face. ‘We need to go fast.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s a gunman in our apartment,’ she sobbed, her gunhand falling limply to her lap.
‘If we don’t take this vehicle to our building,’ she shuddered, ‘he’ll kill mom.’
Author’s Message
Thank you for taking the time to read The Peace Killers. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends and posting a short review.
Sign up to Ty Patterson’s mailing list and get The Watcher, a Zeb Carter novella, exclusive to newsletter subscribers. Join Ty Patterson’s Facebook Readers Group, here.
Check out Ty on Amazon iTunes Kobo Walmart Nook and on his website Ty Patterson
Books by Ty Patterson:
Zeb Carter Series
Zeb Carter, Book 1
The Peace Killers, Book 2
Burn Rate, Book 3
* * *
Warriors Series
The Warrior, Warriors series, Book 1
The Reluctant Warrior, Warriors series, Book 2
The Warrior Code, Warriors series, Book 3
The Warrior’s Debt, Warriors series, Book 4
Warriors series Boxset, Books 1-4
Flay, Warriors series, Book 5
Behind You, Warriors series, Book 6
Hunting You, Warriors series, Book 7
Zero, Warriors series, Book 8
Warriors series Boxset II, Books 5-8
Warriors series Boxset III, Books 1-8
Death Club, Warriors series, Book 9
Trigger Break, Warriors series, Book 10
Scorched Earth, Warriors series, Book 11
RUN! Warriors series, Book 12
* * *
Gemini Series
Dividing Zero, Gemini Series, Book 1
Defending Cain, Gemini Series, Book 2
I AM Missing, Gemini Series, Book 3
Wrecking Team, Gemini Series, Book 4
* * *
Cade Stryker Series
The Last Gunfighter of Space, Book 1
The Thief Who Stole A Planet, Book 2
Warriors Series Shorts
Zulu Hour, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 1
The Shadow, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 2
The Man from Congo, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 3
The Texan, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 4
The Heavies, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 5
The Cab Driver, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 6
* * *
Sign up to Ty Patterson’s mailing list and get The Watcher, a Zeb Carter novella, exclusive to newsletter subscribers. Join Ty Patterson’s Facebook Readers Group, here.
Check out Ty on Amazon iTunes Kobo Walm
art Nook and on his website Ty Patterson
About the Author
Ty has been a trench digger, loose tea vendor, leather goods salesman, marine lubricants salesman, diesel engine mechanic, and is now an action thriller author.
* * *
Ty is privileged that thriller readers love his books. ‘Unputdownable,’ ‘Turbocharged,’ ‘Ty sets the standard in thriller writing,’ are some of the reviews for his books.
* * *
Ty lives with his wife and son, who humor his ridiculous belief that he’s in charge.
