Meaning, why isn’t he in an organization that has to report to congress?

The D/CIA, Kerry Bostwick, said, “We’re out of the detainee business, period. No way do I want to get involved in that snake pit again.”

Secretary Billings said, “So who’s in charge of this interrogation effort? Some underqualified pipe-swinger like the CIA used after 9/11? Are we talking torture here?”

Kurt said, “Ultimately, it’s you people in this room, and no, we aren’t torturing him. The interrogators are the best in the business, and are working within the protocols outlined in our charter. Long and short of it, we aren’t using the enhanced interrogation techniques that you are familiar with.”

President Warren said, “Let’s stick to the business at hand. What has Rashid disclosed?”

“He’s detailed the explosives that were passed, and it’s pretty standard stuff with the exception of the detonation procedures. They’re all nonmetallic, chemically activated, and very hard—if not impossible—to detect through normal means. An explosives detection capability would find the Semtex of the charge, but traditional scanners and metal detectors will not find that or the detonation method.”

“So he can fly it into the United States? Without fear of being caught?”

“Well, TSA randomly checks for explosives residue, so there is some chance of compromise, but it’s minimal considering the number of pieces of luggage that enter the United States. Especially if they launch the attack from a smaller airport overseas and get the bags into the system, which is why we think they’re in Italy.”

Billings said, “Why Venice? That seems so odd to me.”

“We have no idea, honestly. There is nothing in that city that would be of benefit to the Islamic State or Jabhat al-Nusra, and they’ve put in a lot of effort into this attack. All we own at this point are the Florida law enforcement rap sheets for the Lost Boys, and their travel history. It ends in Venice.”

President Warren said, “What about Omar?”

“He got away. We have no idea what name he was traveling under, and Pike had his hands full exfiltrating without compromise. The hotel room targeted was tied to a Georgian organized crime syndicate, which ended up being a good thing. The police are assuming criminal retaliation—drug deal gone bad, that sort of thing. All we have is the anchor in Venice.”

“And?”

“And Pike’s headed that way as we speak.”

Alexander Palmer said, “Let’s hope it’s not too little, too late.”

73

I leaned in closer to the plaque, intrigued by the write-up. I said, “Jennifer, come here. Take a look at this: Venice had an Oversight Council.”

She turned from the ornate wooden throne she’d been studying and walked over to see what I was reading, our inspection of the premises just about over.

We’d come to the famed Doge’s Palace in Venice to investigate why the Lost Boy named Jacob Driscoll had toured it, but so far had come up with nothing. The museum offered little beyond showcasing the old rulers of Venice—known as the doges—and appeared to hold nothing that would inspire an Islamic State attack.

Jennifer saw the plaque and smiled, saying, “Wait, you actually like the history here? You’re not bored out of your mind wandering around this dusty palace?”

I said, “Not with stuff like this. They had a body called the Council of Ten. It was formed after an attack on one of the doges, and was in charge of state security. It was supposed to be temporary, and it operated in secret. Sound familiar?”

Jennifer said, “Let’s hope not. The Council of Ten ended up pretty much ruling the Republic of Venice, sticking their fingers into everything from diplomacy to taxes.”

I should have known she would have more historical knowledge than the museum plaque. She possessed an encyclopedic mind for ancient stuff, constantly reading dull archeological magazines that made National Geographic look as exciting as Playboy. And I don’t mean that because of the half-naked pictures. The National Geographic ones, that is.

I said, “Yeah, well, it looks like it started the same way our own Oversight Council did. Protection of the state from an external threat, and operating in secret. Something to think about.”

She said, “So you finally admit history has something to teach us about the future.”

In mock surprise I said, “Of course I do. I love it when we go look at fossilized poop and pottery shards.”

She gave me her disapproving-teacher glare and I said, “Let’s head back to the hotel. See if the guys found anything from the surveillance cameras. We’re getting nothing from this place in person, and I’d really like to know if Jacob’s history here has anything to do with the future he’s planning.”

We’d hit the ground late last night and gone straight into action, trying to make up for the lost time we’d spent rescuing Shoshana. I didn’t regret that decision at all, but it was a Solomon’s choice, and Kurt had made it clear that the Oversight Council felt it was a mistake, especially if saving her had taken away our ability to stop an Islamic State attack.

Initially I didn’t really worry about what they thought, because choices always had to be made in this line of work, and I had been convinced that the Lost Boys could wait. After our investigations last night, my confidence was starting to evaporate.

The Lost Boys were using their true passports, and the Taskforce had given us a hotel they were using, which had made necking down the room they were in child’s play. Retro had repeated the actions he’d taken in Tirana, penetrating the hotel servers of a Best Western, and had identified a lone room. Aaron and Shoshana had done the breaking in.

Using them may have seemed counterintuitive, but a B&E wasn’t risk-free, and I wanted a throwaway team in case they were burned and no longer useful for surveillance. They were exploiting Venice as nothing more than a clean break from Tirana, and would be gone tomorrow. I decided to keep my team fresh, with a heat state at zero.

Having them here at all had been a little bit of a fight. I’d had a debate with Kurt on their exfiltration, wanting them to fly with me instead of taking commercial transport, and, after much back-and-forth, he’d finally agreed. They needed to vacate Tirana as quickly as we did, and I didn’t want them getting stopped by Albanian gestapo trying to board some broken-down aircraft in Tirana. The only other option had been going out with Showboat and the support crew, which—given they were transporting Rashid to Taskforce detainee operations—wasn’t really an option. Kurt had said they could fly with me to Venice, but were to break free from there. He hadn’t given me a time, so I figured using them for a final op was okay.

They’d done the B&E, first using a RadarScope—a motion detector that could see through walls—to determine the room was empty, then an ingenious device made of coiled wire and a metal rod that slipped under the door and manipulated the door handle from the inside. Since hotel room doors were designed to prevent someone from locking themselves in, they always opened when pulled from the inside, regardless of the locks in place. We could have hacked the key-card, but such access left a digital trail in the database at reception, something we wanted to avoid.

They’d spent less than five minutes in the room and had found three interesting things, the first two telling me my decision in Tirana may have caused mission failure on finding the Lost Boys in time.

One, the room had no luggage. It still had a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door handle, and a sleeping pallet on the floor, along with a mussed bed and dirty towels, but no clothes, toothbrushes, or anything else.