Page 63 of End of Days

“Sir, I told you, I have no idea. I honestly don’t know. What did they ask you?”

“What do you think? They wanted to know what he was doing in Bahrain. He had a damn diplomatic passport from our order, of all things.”

Garrett heard the curse word of “damn” and knew the man was extremely upset. He said, “And how did you explain that?”

Marco turned from the window and said, “I told them he was a functionary. A good kid who helped out with our humanitarian mission. They asked how the name on our passport differed from the name on his Croatian passport and I used that to tell them he’d stolen it. But you and I know that’s not true. I approved that passport with the different name. And now it’s all coming home to roost.”

Garrett said, “Nothing is ‘coming home to roost,’ sir. Donatello protected your activities in Syria, just as I did. I don’t know what he was doing, and as a member of my team, it’s ultimately my fault he traveled with one of your diplomatic passports, but it isn’t the end of the world. What are their next steps?”

Marco said, “They believed me. I told them about his bent toward dispensationalism to throw them off. About how he believed in the End of Days and maybe that had something to do with him being in Bahrain, but it had nothing to do with their naval commander. I made it seem like he was a religious fanatic, searching for the truth. They seemed to buy the theory.”

Garrett wanted to punch the man in the face right there. He’d just given away the keys to the kingdom. But he did not. He said, “Sir, I think that was for the best. We’re good. None of this will blow back on the order. I’m just as sorry as you about Donatello’s death, but that’s not something we could prevent. Every organization has bad seeds. I’m just sorry I brought this one to you.”

Marco nodded and said, “If they reengage, we’ll have to have another talk about how to cut your unit out of our existence. You understand that, right?”

“Of course, sir. I serve at the pleasure of the order.”

Marco nodded, then turned back to the window, letting Garrettknow the meeting was over. He stood for a moment, about to say something else, then thought better of it. He left the room and went back down to his office, seeing a satchel on his desk. He opened it and found about a quarter pound of Semtex explosives, blasting caps, motion sensors, and a remote trigger.

He started to build his device, then heard his tablet buzzing on his desk. He snatched it up, seeing an alert from Raph.

He opened the messaging app and a picture appeared. The two “State Department” personnel were meeting with a woman and a man in Piazza di Spagna, just up the road from the palace. The text said, “They walked up here and are meeting these two for dinner. What do you want us to do? Doesn’t seem that threatening.”

He zoomed in on the picture, ignoring the “State Department” hippie and black man who’d visited the palace, focusing on the other two. When the image resolved, he almost dropped his tablet. It was the same two who had shown up at the crime scene. The predators who had come to talk to the inspector.

He texted back, “Did you get the scooter and limpet mine?”

“Yes, we did. Why?”

“The men will come back to the car here, at the palace. When they do, trace them and kill them.”

He could feel the alarm even as the return text didn’t describe the emotion. Raph said, “Why? Why would we do that?”

Garrett couldn’t very well say that the other two had been at a crime scene he’d created after killing four other women. As much as he’d have liked to, he could not.

He texted, “I just finished with the Lieutenant of the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. There is a threat here to our mission. I need you to eliminate the threat. Those men are close to determining our status.”

He waited, then Raph came back, texting, “The scooter is up the street. The limpet mine is in the saddle bag. We can do it, but are you sure? Maybe we should follow the other two. See who they are.”

That wouldn’t do. It would probably lead them to the police investigation resulting from his littering of bodies. It would be up to him to eliminate that threat, which is why he’d asked for the explosives.

He texted, “No. Kill these State Department guys and we cut it off. Just do it. You and Leonardo are leaving tomorrow for Beirut, and Michelangelo and I are headed to Israel with the Grand Master. We’ll all be clean. Make it one more Keta’ib Hezbollah hit. If we do it right, it’ll be a benefit.”

Chapter 41

Knuckles exited the Magisterial Palace and waited for the doors to close before saying, “You believe any of that shit?”

Brett chuckled and said, “What part?”

“All of it. That fucker knows more than he’s trying to sell us.”

Knuckles’s phone dinged and he read a text from Pike. He stopped walking to the car and said, “Pike’s up the road at a bistro. Wants to talk.”

They shifted course and went to the guard stationed at the entrance, saying, “We’re going to leave our car here for about an hour. Is that okay?”

The guard, having been told they were important individuals and misunderstanding the question, stiffened and said, “Yes, yes. Nobody will do anything to the vehicle. I’ll make sure of that.”

Knuckles leaned in, looked left and right conspiratorially, then whispered, “It’s a rental. Don’t shoot anyone trying to break into it. I just want to make sure you don’t tow it away.”

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