“What if your intelligence is wrong?”

Shoshana smiled. “I don’t need to sleep with this one. I felt it as soon as he appeared on the balcony. I know.” She became agitated, saying, “He kills without any remorse, and he’s going to kill again. Right now. We can stop it. The Jordanians won’t have this place under control before they’re gone.”

Jennifer felt her conviction wavering. Shoshana pressed, “Did you see what was on his back? A laptop. There could be enormous information in that thing.”

Shoshana’s eyes were boring into her, and she thought, Jesus. She’s reading me right now.

Shoshana scrambled to the front of the van and began surveying the street, saying, “We’ve wasted five minutes beating each other up. Maybe he’s still here.”

Jennifer said, “Shoshana, no. We wait on Aaron and Pike.”

“He’s still there! He’s meeting with someone. He’s talking to another man.”

Jennifer crowded forward and saw al-Britani in close conversation with a young man wearing a faded nylon jacket, stabbing his hand in the air to punctuate a statement. The man clapped al-Britani on the shoulder, and they turned to walk down the street.

Shoshana said, “Let’s find the bed-down. Just locate them. Then we can decide, but sitting here is letting them get away.”

Jennifer decided to punt. She keyed her radio. “Pike, this is Koko. What’s your status?”

“Loaded up now. We’re about four minutes out.”

Jennifer relayed the information, and Shoshana said, “Four minutes is an eternity.”

Jennifer felt the pressure like never before, now understanding what Pike went through on operations. The Lost Boys video popped into her head. The grisly, obscene killings. She watched the back of al-Britani walking away, glimpses growing smaller as he faded between people in the crowd.

She felt Shoshana’s hand on her arm. She turned, and saw pain etched in Shoshana’s face. A physical thing, making her wonder what had happened in the past.

“Please. Don’t let him get away. Please.”

She realized that Shoshana was waiting on her decision. Because I voluntarily released her. She promised she wouldn’t fight. And she could. She could leave right now.

Teetering on the brink, Shoshana’s words pushed Jennifer over the lethal edge of a decision. The fact that Shoshana valued her promise over the incredible desire to deliver justice to al-Britani meant more to Jennifer than anything she had said before. It was enough.

Jennifer said, “Okay, but no killing. Location only, right?”

Like a time-lapse video, Jennifer watched the dark angel blossom, spreading throughout Shoshana’s body. She pulled a suppressor out of a bag and screwed it onto an old 9mm Browning Hi-Power. She lifted her shirt, exposing a belly holster. She stowed the weapon and opened the door.

Alarmed, wondering if she’d made a mistake, Jennifer said, “Shoshana? No killing.”

The dark angel stepped out, her earlier promise met. She said, “That’ll all depend on him.”

38

We were closing in on the location of the van when I saw it start to move again. Or at least, I saw the ping on Jennifer’s phone move. I called.

“Koko, what’s your status?”

I got nothing.

“Koko, Koko, status? Acknowledge.”

I heard the dumbest damn thing imaginable. “Pike, the target has linked up with someone and has started to move. We couldn’t maintain eyes on from the van. We’re on foot, and tracking.”

What. The. Fuck.

Aaron was driving our van, with the team in the back. I knew I couldn’t go all ballistic in front of him, but I sure as shit wanted to. I went the team-leader measured-response route.

“Koko, stand down. I say again, stand down. Showboat says the Jords will be rolling in fifteen. We’ve done our work.”

“Pike, these guys are going to attack before that time. They’re going to evade the net. Let us find the bed-down. Get a physical grid location so the Jordanians don’t have to search the neighborhood.”

I forgot about the cool, calm team-leader route. “Damn it, listen to me! Stand the fuck down! Now! If Shoshana wants to wreck things, then get the fuck out of the blast radius. You read me?”

She didn’t respond. I looked at Aaron and said, “This is your damn fault! It’s just like Brazil all over again. Shoshana’s some kind of witch doctor. Jennifer never does this shit, but every time she’s with Shoshana she goes off the reservation.”

Aaron turned into an alley, and I saw the van. Empty. He said, “Pike, trust me, I feel your pain. I’ve had to live with it since she was assigned to me. Shoshana’s a handful, but if she’s working the problem, there’s a reason.”

“Yeah. She wants to cut al-Britani’s head off. And she’s going to put Jennifer in the line of fire in the process. Bloodthirsty little bitch doesn’t care who she hurts.”

Aaron put the van in park and said, “You are wrong. Shoshana is special in more ways than one. She wouldn’t do this if she didn’t think it necessary.”

I slapped the dash and said, “Bullshit. She’d sell her mother if it meant a kill.”

“No. No, she wouldn’t. You don’t see it, but Jennifer does.”

*   *   *

Head covered in a hijab and sunglasses on her face, Jennifer walked slightly behind Shoshana, letting her take the lead. Shoshana tracked the target expertly, stopping and perusing at the markets without ever losing sight. Shoshana was dressed like a local, but Jennifer was wearing cargo pants and a loose-fitting cotton shirt. Man clothes. She felt the stares and wondered if she was going to burn the operation.

She said, “Shoshana, I don’t look Arab.”

Shoshana took her hand and handed her a melon, as if they were shopping. She said, “I’m your guide. Westerners come here all the time. Your hijab shows respect. You think everyone is staring, but they’re not. You blend in just fine.”

They continued their little shopping tour, about fifty meters back from the target. As she watched him walking with his friend, she could see him talking at a frenetic pace. He was wired and on edge, waving his arms around and slapping the friend on the back. But not running anymore.

They stopped at each stand for a moment, but didn’t do any real shopping, making Jennifer wonder what they were doing. Al-Britani had just found a microphone on a man he perceived as a traitor, and had to know he was set up. Had to understand that someone was chasing him, but, after escaping the building a mile away and ordering the attack, he was now stalling.

Why?

Al-Britani talked to a merchant, and suddenly Jennifer understood. It was an act. They were making sure people saw them. Making sure the store vendors knew who they were. They were creating a reality for the future investigation.

And she realized it wasn’t a suicide attack.

He thinks he’s going to get away. And the time he’s wasting will be his undoing.

She looked at her watch and saw they had less than seven minutes before the deadline Pike had given. The Jordanians would be here soon. And he’d be caught.

But there was no Jordanian security on the street. No activity at all.

Where are they?

Pike’s call from earlier had said they’d be here, locking down the block. In between his shouting, he’d led her to believe it would be some sort of Katrina hurricane response, the area flooded with police. But that wasn’t happening.

She wondered if he knew more than her. Wondered if ignoring him was the right course of action, for reasons greater than the tongue-lashing she knew she’d get. She could handle Pike. He was full of bluster, but he understood operational success, and had done the same thing she was doing on multiple occasions. She was convinced she was right, and she was sure Pike would agree—after the operation. The only thing she was unsure of was Shoshana.