Ghosts of War

by Brad Taylor

  He switched channels to the back and began yelling at them. I walked out of sight, Knuckles taking a position to the rear.

  Nothing happened.

  I jammed in the extended lighter, letting them see the promise of death.

  The locks on the doors began popping, the men inside screaming at us to stop. The doors swung open.

  I ran around to the back, seeing Knuckles putting two men on the ground, his weapon held at the ready. He ripped off a key ring and tossed it to me, and I jumped into the back. Aaron followed, and we went through the keys until we hit the one unlocking the chests.

  Inside were gold items worth millions of dollars—rings, watches, necklaces, bracelets, coins, you name it—but no Torah.

  Aaron jumped up from the second chest and said, “Where is the Torah?”

  Kneeling down, digging through the first chest, I just shook my head. He screamed outside, “Where is the Torah?” The men on the ground looked at him, confused. He leapt down and slapped the closest in the face. “The Torah? Where is it?”

  The man clearly had no idea.

  I heard the first whiff of a siren on the air and said, “We need to go.”

  “No!” He turned to the man and repeated the question. He got the same response. I said, “We need to go.”

  Without waiting on the answer, I jumped out, calling Jennifer on the radio. “Koko, exfil. Dry hole.”

  She said, “Dry hole?” Shoshana started moving toward me. I said, “Carrie, get your ass out of here.”

  Jennifer grabbed her arm, and they went to the mopeds they’d stashed. I turned back to the car and said, “Aaron?”

  He nodded. Knuckles was already on his mighty steed, looking ridiculous, waiting on me. To Aaron, I said, “Sorry, man. It’s not here and these guys don’t know anything about it. They’re just hired transport. We need to regroup. Drop the note and let’s go.”

  Aaron nodded again, still struggling with the fact that we were leaving empty-handed. He stalked over to the man on the ground and laid an envelope on his back, then leaned into his ear, whispering, “You are delivering the last vestiges of dead men. The man you work for is stealing the heritage of those murdered by Nazis. Something I would think you would understand in this city.”

  The contents of the envelope described exactly what was contained in the chest, preventing the armored car from delivering its goods once the police arrived—and hopefully causing absolute chaos in the follow-on investigation. I mean, really, who hits an armored car and then leaves the juicy proceeds behind?

  We kicked the mopeds into gear, and threaded our way out, retracing the steps the armored car had taken, then splitting up into ones and twos, using exits that were blocked to cars, running out of the rat maze of streets. An hour later, we were back in the hotel, the rental mopeds turned in. I entered the lobby alone and called Jennifer, saying, “Who’re we waiting on?”

  “You. Everyone else is here.”

  “In the lounge?”

  “Yep. Come on up.”

  “Okay. On the way.” I started to hang up and heard “Pike? You still there?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Shoshana is acting weird. She was asking me all kinds of questions while we waited on the truck. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

  “She talked to me. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Okay. Just wanted to give you a warning.”

  “About what?”

  “I think she slept with Aaron.”

  Great. Can’t wait to see this shitshow in action.

  I exited on the business lounge floor, told the lady at the desk my room number—Jennifer’s number—then wound to the back, finding the team sitting on the same couches we’d used to plan the mission. Shoshana was curled up next to Aaron like a cat. Aaron was studiously ignoring her, typing on a laptop. Jennifer and Knuckles were across from them, on another couch. Jennifer smiled at me, flicked her eyes at Shoshana, then raised her eyebrows, as if to say, What’s going on with her?

  I looked at the seating. I had the choice of sitting next to Shoshana or squeezing in beside Jennifer. Wasn’t much of a decision.

  I sat down, pushing Jennifer aside, and she pinched my hip with a hand, her curiosity about Shoshana getting the better of her. For his part, Knuckles just handed me a Stella, saying, “Win some, lose some.” He couldn’t care less what was going on with the Israelis.

  To Aaron I said, “So, what’s the story?”

  He looked up from the computer and Shoshana uncoiled, just like a cat stretching, then leaned back, putting her weight on Aaron. He glared at her, and shifted left, then said, “Mossad thinks Mikhail has the Torah. From what we’ve gleaned, we think it’s his payment for the mission.”

  I said, “That’s not the story I’m talking about.”

  He said, “What do you mean?”

  Shoshana looked at me, eyes bright, and said, “Are you making fun of me? Like Knuckles does with Jennifer?”

  And it became clear. She wanted the attention. She wanted the feeling of being normal, not realizing that Knuckles making fun of my relationship with Jennifer was about as far from the ordinary world as possible. People in normal careers didn’t have an issue with a simple relationship between a man and a woman, but she had never seen it.

  Then it hit home why she could even claim that status. Jennifer was right. I said, “Holy shit. You guys are . . . are . . .”

  Shoshana waited on me to say it. I couldn’t. Jennifer had her hand to her mouth.

  Aaron said, “Can we talk about the damn mission?”

  Shoshana said, “You sound just like Pike. I’ve heard that a hundred times whenever anyone brings up Jennifer.” She was happy as a clam, pretending that she’d become some twisted, alternate-universe version of Jennifer and me.

  He glared at her, and Knuckles said, “This is borderline schizophrenic. Shoshana, you have some mean skills, but you are without a doubt the craziest person I’ve ever operated with.”

  And the real Shoshana finally returned, the dark angel flaring out at his attempt to puncture her fantasy. She locked eyes with Knuckles, the fake relaxation gone as if it were nothing more than a veneer of paint, her face now reflecting a penchant for violence that was all too real.

  She hissed, “You know nothing about me. But if you’d like to learn, I’m willing to teach you.”

  I held up my hands and said, “Whoa, whoa, come on.”

  She leaned back into Aaron and said, “Get ahold of your teammate. He needs to learn some manners.”

  I locked eyes with her and said, “Okay. Everyone take a break. No more talking about shit that has nothing to do with the mission.”

  Her eyes on mine, she nodded slightly, letting the moment pass. I said, “Aaron, what do you have?”

  “Nothing more than I told you. Mossad thinks Mikhail has a buyer in Vienna for the Torah, but we don’t know where he is or, more important, where the Torah is.”

  “So we’re done here? Time to go home and call it?”

  “Looks that way, for the Torah mission, at least. I’d really like to shove that thing up his ass.”

  I saw Shoshana squeeze his hand, and knew it had nothing to do with her newfound attempts at a relationship. She despised Mikhail with a visceral hatred of a level that I had only seen once before, when it was me doing the hating. It was molten and dangerous, and she deserved to lance that boil, much like I had done.

  I said, “Well, you want to chase him, we’re still available.”

  Aaron glanced at Shoshana, then at me. I said, “What?”

  Shoshana said, “I want you to find the Torah. I want you and Jennifer to help me destroy that . . . thing that possesses it.” She flicked her head at Knuckles and said, “Maybe even with the man-whore. But I won’t ask you to do it. The Torah must wait. But maybe Mik
hail won’t have to.”

  “Why?”

  Aaron said, “I received the translation from Mossad. They charged nothing, and are screaming for why I asked for it.”

  “Because?”

  “Because it’s not good. Shoshana thinks you’re right, and so does the Mossad. Someone’s pushing the United States and Russia into a war, and Mikhail is at the center of it.”

  I said, “You’re kidding me.”

  Shoshana said, “No, he’s not. You felt it, and it’s true. You have the gift.”

  Jesus. Not this again. “What, exactly, does it say?”

  “Too much to talk about. I’ll give it to you, but when I do, you’ve got to protect how you received it. When you read it, you’ll see that war is about to erupt in Europe.”

  I said, “I can do that, but I have to send it forward. You know that.”

  “I do. And so does the Mossad. It’s scared them. They can’t do anything, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “They’ve . . . insinuated that we should help.”

  I said nothing, and he rapidly continued, “It’s your call, of course, but, if the mighty United States could use our skills, we’re here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a world war in Europe is definitely against Israeli interests. Nothing more.”

  I looked at Shoshana, and she said, “Because we believe in you, dummy. You helped us, and we want to help you. Aaron went out of his way to get approval. Don’t try to read into this.”

  I broke into a grin, liking the statement. Liking Shoshana turning back into Shoshana. I knew she was the one who had convinced Aaron, and it made all the difference. She was the Pumpkin King, even if she wouldn’t admit it. But I saw my chance to tweak her. Finally.

  I said, “Really? Did all this become clear before or after you closed the door to Aaron’s room?”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but what I got would have rated as the last thing on the list. The fake emotion vanished, the pretense of projecting a relationship disappearing like smoke.

  She put her hand on Aaron’s, projecting a sincerity as clean as new-fallen snow. She said, “No, Nephilim. You are my brother, nothing more. You are not my touchstone.”

  Jennifer nodded her head in approval and said, “Maybe we don’t need to talk after all.”

  41

  President Hannister said, “Okay, Kurt, you got us here early. We only have fifteen minutes before the rest of the national security folks arrive. What’s up?”

  Kurt said, “I’d rather wait until the secretary of defense gets here. So I don’t have to repeat myself.”

  Kerry Bostwick, the director of the CIA, pointed at Alexander Palmer and said, “National security advisor, SECDEF, me, the president. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re bringing back the principals of the Oversight Council. All that’s missing is the secretary of state.”

  Kurt said, “He’s dead, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I have some information, but it’s Taskforce. I need to get it in front of folks read on before the rest get here.”

  Palmer said, “The Oversight Council is defunct right now. Terrorism has taken a backseat to the problems in Europe.” He turned to the president and said, “Sir, we don’t have time for political games here. Kurt’s obviously trying to get his unit back in play.”

  Then the full measure of what Kurt had said sank in. Palmer said, “And what the hell do you mean you have ‘Taskforce information’? They’re supposed to be inactive as well.”

  Kurt said, “It’s not purely Taskforce, but it has everything to do with what’s going on in Europe.”

  Before anyone could ask another question, Secretary of Defense Mark Oglethorpe entered the Oval Office. He said, “What’s the fire? I’ve got an assault into fortress Europe to deal with.”

  President Hannister said, “Kurt?”

  Kurt laid a slim manila folder on the table and said, “This is a report from the Mossad, gleaned by Pike Logan. Bottom line: A Russian Jew named Simon Migunov is manipulating events to force a war between Russia and NATO.”

  The group of men were speechless. President Hannister found his voice first. “You mean an individual man is about to cause World War Three? Not Russia? How?”

  “A little of both, actually. Mossad believes the Belarus attack was instigated by Putin, using Simon as a cutout. Their assessment is he wanted to take Belarus as a fait accompli, but then President Warren was killed. According to the intercepts Pike got, the same team was responsible for both, and they believe they’re working for Putin, but they’re not. At least, not anymore. And they have another attack planned, location unknown.”

  “Why?”

  “Simon’s the head of a huge organized crime syndicate—he’s also on our top ten FBI list. He was in jail for over a year based on the whim of Putin. We think he’s using Putin’s own assets to get him overthrown or destroyed. Maybe it’s self-preservation. Maybe a vendetta. Maybe he’s just crazy. We don’t know why, but it’s real.”

  Kerry had the file in his hand and had read the first sheet. “This transcript doesn’t say any of that. It’s one guy bitching about killing the president and how he was told it was NATO aircraft, and the other guy saying he did good and Putin would be proud. The first guy is agitated, wanting out of the whole thing. The second convinces him to continue—and I quote—‘for the motherland.’ Everything here shows it to be at Putin’s hands.”

  He set the page down and said, “Where is Mossad getting what you say?”

  Kurt said, “Actually, it’s Pike. Read the second transcript. That’s a man named Mikhail—an ex–Mossad operative—talking to Simon. It’s compelling, and it’s straight from Pike Logan.”

  Kerry did so, then said, “Jesus.” Alexander Palmer took the pages, scanned them, and said, “There’s no smoking gun here.”

  President Hannister said, “Kerry? What did you see?”

  Kerry took the pages back and said, “One paragraph. Mikhail to Simon: I don’t know about that. The firestorm you’re stirring up may protect you from Putin, but it won’t from the devastation of another world war. You should take a look at the pictures of Warsaw from the forties, then try to figure out where you’d spend your gold in that destruction.” He looked up and said, “Mikhail is not happy with the path they’re taking, and it’s clearly not the path Putin wants. It’s not Putin’s doing.”

  Hannister said, “But why? Why on earth would they want a war?”

  Kerry said, “Because of the next sentence from Simon: Let me worry about that. The Americans will quit if there is a coup. I know them. They aren’t the Nazis. Simon wants a coup, and he’s using us to get it.”

  Palmer said, “This is ridiculous. Let’s take it to NATO and get everyone to stand down. We’re about to go to war over nothing.”

  The SECDEF said, “We can’t just ‘take it to NATO.’ They’re going nuts right now. Yeah, we have a big chair at the table, but Putin is moving into Belarus as we speak. Poland is mobilizing because of it, and the NATO rapid reaction force is deploying—a brigade under the command of Spain. We can’t tell them to stand down. The threat is real. And we’re bound to support them.”

  President Hannister said, “Russia is going into Belarus? When did that happen?”

  “Sir, it’s starting now. The president of Belarus chose sides. He picked Putin. He’s invited him in. My guess is he’ll start stacking up against the border of Lithuania and Poland, protecting his ability to get to the Kaliningrad Oblast and the Black Sea, and isolate the Baltic states. He’s preparing for a fight.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Nobody said anything for a moment. Kurt took the silence as an opening. “Sir, if you read the transcript, it shows they have another attack planned. Whoever those guys are, they’re following someone else’s lead and are going to do what th
ey’re told. Right now, we’re on a tripwire, and if that attack occurs, we’re going to lose the ability to stop the forward momentum. We’re going to war.”

  Hannister said, “Putin is already moving.”

  “He’s moving because he’s posturing. He doesn’t want a war any more than we do. Only Simon wants the war. Putin’s just getting ready for the punch, like a guy holding an arm over his face. We can’t give anyone a reason to throw that punch.”

  Palmer said, “Sir, we need to call off the show of strength. This is getting out of control. We don’t want a force in there if someone else lights the fuse. They’ll be surrounded and massacred.”

  Hannister said, “Where do we stand with that?”

  Oglethorpe said, “Sir, we can stop the assault, but we already have men on the ground. We conducted a HALO operation both at the airfield and the crash site. Pathfinder teams are on the ground right now, and their exfil platform is the follow-on force.”

  Hannister looked stricken. He said, “You only briefed me about this six hours ago. It’s already in motion?”

  “Sir, it was in motion once you gave me the word to execute.”

  Kurt exhaled and said, “So we’re committed?”

  Palmer said, “Wait, what’s the plan? I thought you guys were going to drive in. This wasn’t supposed to happen for another day, with our ability to pull out at any time. A simple show of force.”

  42

  Mark Oglethorpe said, “No. I was given the mission to secure the crash site, and my team decided the easiest way was to project force directly to the area. Driving and waiting to get shot at was not the optimum solution.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Oglethorpe turned to Palmer and said, “It means I briefed the president of the United States. Sorry if you were getting a latte.”

  Palmer turned to Hannister and said, “Sir . . . I can’t help you if you don’t include me.”

  Oglethorpe said, “He included you in the conversation on Marine One. When the decision was made.”

  Hannister said, “The Joint Chiefs had little time. Mark asked for a special session. He needed to get things moving, and they briefed me, because I had to get the state department to notify the Russians. I had no idea it would happen this quickly.”