Anzor laughed, bumping Omar’s knapsack at the table and causing a book to slip halfway out. Davit saw the black-and-yellow cover, then read the title.

Catholicism for Dummies.

He said, “What on earth is that?”

The other two men focused on it, their brows furrowed in confusion.

Omar shoved the book back into his bag and said, “Knowing the enemy. Nothing more.”

He stood, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He saw their faces and said, “My business is none of your concern. That ends with protecting my meeting. The same way I protected your lives in Georgia.”

32

I jammed the barrel of my Glock in Hussein’s face, seeing his mouth open in surprise, then clench into a grimace of pain as Shoshana torqued his arm behind his back. She swiped his legs from under him and slammed him face-first into the pavement, then cinched his arms together with plastic flex ties and put a knee into his back, leaning forward and using her weight.

She looked up at me expectantly. I have to admit, I was impressed. I’d told her that she had the responsibility for the takedown, but it was only to put her on edge for her slights against me earlier. Give her a little worry about screwing up. I figured I’d be doing the slam dance either way, and was looking forward to it, but I hadn’t even gotten the chance before she sprang into action.

I glanced down the far end of the alley, seeing Retro and Brett with eyes out toward the street, pistols held low, but ready. Brett gave me a thumbs-up and I leaned down into Hussein’s ear and said, “Welcome home, shithead.”

I yanked him to his feet, expecting to see fear and waiting on him to try to fight, giving me the authority to lump him up some before turning him over to the support team. Instead, I saw wonderment.

“You’re American!”

It wasn’t a question. I grabbed his flex ties, whirled him around toward our waiting van, and said, “What nationality I am is of no concern to you, I promise. What I’m going to do to you, if you resist, is a whole different world you should be worried about.”

I began driving him forward, causing him to stumble in the debris of the alley. I kept him up by forcefully hoisting his arms in the air. He yelped and said, “No, no, I mean, I was trying to find you. Trying to make contact!”

We reached the van and I shoved him through the door, saying, “Shut the fuck up, you murdering little toad.”

He sank into a ball, tucking his head into his chest. I leapt into the back, Shoshana following and closing the door. I put my knee into his chest and said into my earpiece, “Hipster secure. Meet us on our street, away from the target building. You lead to the support team. Any trouble, you provide blocker and deal with it.”

I heard Knuckles say, “Roger all. Moving.”

I looked at Jennifer. “Dope him.”

Aaron put the van in drive and we began rolling. Jennifer withdrew a syringe, flicking the air bubbles out of it like a doctor on TV. Hussein saw the move and began to squirm. He said, “Wait, wait. Don’t drug me. I have to talk to you. I have to tell you what’s going on. They’re going to kill my father. Please, you have to stop them.”

I leaned into him and put my thumb against the base of his ear, smashing a tangle of nerves for compliance. His jaw snapped wide in silent pain and his eyes rolled back. I looked at Jennifer and said, “Hit him.”

She leaned forward and he rasped, “Attack. They’re going to attack.”

I pulled my thumb back and waved Jennifer off. She sat on her heels, expectantly holding the needle. I said, “What was that?”

From the front, Aaron said, “Got the lead van. Five minutes out.”

Breathing heavily, sweat rolling off of his head, Hussein said, “The Islamic State. The ones you sent me against. They’re here. They’re going to attack tomorrow, and they expect me to help.”

I said, “That’s great. You can tell us all about it under interrogation.”

I nodded to Jennifer and he screeched, “No, no! They expect me to show up right now. If I don’t, they’ll know something’s wrong. They’ll think I double-crossed them. There’s no telling what they’ll do then. My information will be useless.”

He sagged and said, “They’ll kill my father.”

I leaned back at the words, knowing if I chose to believe them, I was taking a detour off the reservation, where I would be forced to disobey the orders I’d been given. A choice I didn’t want to make, given my past history. And past punishment. I looked at Jennifer for an answer. She slowly shook her head, telling me she couldn’t parse the truth. I turned to Shoshana and raised an eyebrow, letting her know I wanted her opinion. Her instinct.

Her eyes narrowed, understanding that what she said was going to change the entire course of the operation, but not believing that I trusted her. Not believing I would want the answer she gave. I bored right back. She turned away and studied Hussein. He flopped his head back and forth between us, wondering what the hell was going on. She raised her head and locked eyes with me.

And nodded.

Still watching her, I keyed my radio. “Knuckles, Knuckles, pull over, we’re going back. Stage at the back side of the alley, where I plucked the target.”

Shoshana gave me a grim smile and I heard, “What the hell are you talking about? Did you drop your weapon?”

I said, “No time to talk. I need to coordinate with Showboat, and he’s not going to be happy.”

33

What the fuck do you mean you’re going back? You have Jackpot. Mission success. We’re not deployed here to do exploratory surgery. No Alpha mission. We have Omega for Hussein, and you’ve achieved that. Get your ass back here with the precious cargo.”

Blaine Alexander was yelling so loud into the microphone it caused me to flinch. I said, “Sir, listen to me. I’m not making this up. Remember all the chatter about an Islamic State external operation? Remember that? I think it’s here, and we’re in the middle of it. Right now. Hussein says the target is the Grand Hyatt hotel. A Mumbai-style attack where they run around killing the hell out of everything that moves.”

In 2008 a Pakistani terrorist group called Lashkar-e-Taiba had invaded Mumbai, India, and set about slaughtering civilians in shooting attacks lasting four days in multiple hotels.

“Pike, I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want a repeat of Ireland. Just get the PC back here. That’s what we get paid for. We get a mission, we accomplish the mission. If there’s something here, we’ll interrogate, then deal with it after the appropriate consultation with higher.”

I gritted my teeth. “Sir, we get paid to protect lives. Period. Let me flesh this out. Hussein is just the entry guy. He doesn’t know exactly what they’re going to do. Hell, they might have already planted bombs inside. We need to find that out, and he’s no help. If it’s nothing, it’s nothing. I still have PC, but he’s going to be worthless in an hour. They’ll consider him compromised. We don’t have time for a sit-down interrogation.”

I heard nothing, but, having seen it many times before, I knew what was happening. Blaine was running his hands through his thick hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. Finally, he came back on.

“So you can maintain control of PC and still get the information?”

Now I paused, trying to coax an appropriate answer. I glanced back into the van, seeing Knuckles and Jennifer rigging up a scared Hussein with an audio microphone that would transmit to our van.

“Yes. I’ll have enough coercive control to guarantee physical rendition.”

“What does that mean?”