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Authors: Terry Brennan

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BOOK: The Sacred Cipher
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Less than ten minutes from the jump zone, Painter and his captain reviewed the terrain
maps once again, questioning each of the men on their particular assignment and what
each would do if everything that could go wrong, went wrong. His men, like those in
the other plane, were fully geared-up: high-altitude diving suit, helmet and night-vision
goggles, bat-wing mini-chute, and a wide array of ammunition and weapons including,
ironically, a nasty little submachine gun manufactured in Bavaria by Krupp Armaments.

Painter was so focused on studying the map that he was totally unaware of the pilot
by his shoulder until he was startled by his touch.

“We’ve been recalled,” said the pilot, handing Painter a piece of paper, returning
immediately to his cockpit to calculate fuel and flying time.

Painter looked at the sheet in his hand in disbelief. “The cat is out. Too late. Come
home.” The message had been sent over regular radio. Obviously, there was no longer
any need for secrecy, or any need for their lethal skills.

The cell phone in Rasaf’s pocket began its incessant rattle.
This one, I will not answer
, he thought, pulling into the parking garage at the airport.

Lieutenant Daniel Stern was getting more worried with each passing moment. The Hawk
had been apoplectic since the telephone call, screaming at the top of his lungs, smashing
his balled fists against anything that entered his orbit.

True sleep was impossible, but Kallie was lying on the stainless steel slab that was
mockingly called a bed when she heard the click and the faint hiss, and the door to
her cell slid silently open. Her breath caught in her throat when the guard called
for her to step through the opening.

He was big, not an ounce of fat on his chiseled muscles.

“You are free to go.”

It was like a slap in the face, unseen, startling in its speed, stinging in its wake.

“What . . . what . . . what do you mean?” she stammered.

“You are free to go,” said Mr. Muscles. “Your clothes and all your belongings are
in the dressing room.” He pointed down the cell block with his truncheon.

This is a trap. This is a setup
, Kallie thought.

“Please, ma’am, this way, please. Your clothes are down here. Then you can go. Please.”

With that, Mr. Muscles turned down the cell-block corridor, leaving a dazed and confused
Kallie in his wake.

Twenty minutes later when she stumbled out the door and into the bright sun, Kallie
still didn’t know what was going on. What she did know was the guy standing on the
sidewalk across the street, propped against a tree.

“Man,” said Rizzo, moving in her direction, “I’ve had other women keep me waiting,
but this was ridiculous.”

Rizzo reached up with his hand to steady Kallie as she cleared the last step. “How
did you find me?”

“It’s amazing what you can dig up on the Internet.” Rizzo led Kallie to the rental
car. “You’ve forgotten what a cyber-wizard I am. The Israeli military operates only
one prison that can house civilians. From there, it wasn’t hard.”

Blinking against the sun, Kallie stopped at the passenger-side door. “How long have
you been here?”

“Oh, not long,” Rizzo waved, “not long at all. Two days, I think. But I was all set
to leave. I was only going to wait a little bit longer, maybe just another day . .
. or two. If you weren’t out by then I was—”

“Shut up,” said Kallie, kneeling on the ground and giving Rizzo a bone-rattling hug
that lasted and lasted and lasted, matching the tears that flowed from her eyes.

Eliazar Baruk was in the one place he could be alone, a stall in the men’s room outside
the situation room. He took a deep, cleansing breath. Then another. He grabbed a handful
of tissue and wiped the tears from his eyes. Took another deep breath, sighed, and
left to return to the emergency meeting.

“Chaim, call up the reserves,” Baruk said simply, as he cleared the threshold and
walked to his chair at the head of the table. “Bring all of our forces up to full
alert. Have half of the air force in the air at all times. Warm up the missile batteries,
but keep the hatches closed. No need for unnecessary provocation. Have the navy put
to sea. Every ship. I don’t care what kind of shape it’s in. Get everything away from
the docks.”

The prime minister got to his chair but declined to sit down. He looked around at
his colleagues of so many years, so many crises. He wondered how many of them would
survive. “Well, at least we will not be caught napping.”

Secretary of State Jennings was a compassionate man, a wonderful guy to work for.
That made it even more difficult for both of them.

Sam Reynolds closed the door to the secretary’s office and immediately he began to
wonder if there were any openings with his old law firm.

Annie saw him first, and her heart jumped into her throat. Sitting on the porch Saturday
morning, reading the
Times
, she immediately saw the unmarked, black SUV pull up in front of the house with an
escort. The two uniforms in the leading squad car got out and stood at attention.

Please, God, let it be good news
.

52

Thirty days later, every head of state in the Middle East attended a Mideast Summit
hosted by Krupp and the European Union at Krupp’s sprawling, but easily defended,
estate in Bavaria. There, at 7:00
AM
local time on Tuesday, July 21, Israel signed a peace treaty with leaders from every
Arab nation in the region. Jerusalem was declared an “international city,” open to
all. Muslims controlled the top of Temple Mount, the Jews controlled everything below
the Mount “platform,” and a European Union multinational police force was empowered
to maintain order and access on and around the Temple Mount.

“I wonder how all of this is going to play out?” said Bohannon. “There are so many
ways for this peace plan to unravel.”

BOOK: The Sacred Cipher
11.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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