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Marcus’s personal phone rang again.
It was Roseboro.
Carl explained that he’d been in a SCIF —a sensitive compartmented information facility —updating the director of the Secret Service back in Washington on the latest developments. Marcus quickly filled his colleague in on the latest and told him about the order he’d given Geoff Stone to evacuate the Temple Mount.
“I heard about that,” Roseboro said. “But there are two problems.”
“What problems?”
“POTUS and the PM. They were furious at the idea of an evacuation and countermanded the order.”
“You’re not serious.”
“One of the agents told POTUS that Hussam Mashrawi might be the bomber but that Mashrawi hadn’t been seen in hours and might, in fact, have departed the Temple Mount,” Roseboro said. “When POTUS heard that and relayed it to the PM and the king, all three men said they wanted to proceed. Secretary Whitney cautioned against it, saying they should at least wait in the holding room until the situation became clearer.”
“Did they listen to her?”
“So far.”
“Thank God,” said Marcus. “That may be the only reason they’re all still alive.”
“Where are you now?” Roseboro asked.
“On a rooftop in the Muslim Quarter.”
“What’s being done with al-Qassab?”
“Tomer and I are going to take him into custody. I’ll keep interrogating him and see what more I can get.”
“No, that can wait —have Tomer bring you here. I want you to brief the president on what you’ve learned and just how dangerous the situation really is.”
Marcus agreed, and soon he and Tomer had turned custody of al-Qassab over to the Mishmar Hagvul commandos and were racing across the rooftops to the two aluminum ladders the commandos had used. The two men quickly scrambled down and sprinted through the shuk, then through another labyrinth of alleyways until they reached a now even more heavily fortified checkpoint onto the Temple Mount.
They showed their IDs and explained what was happening, but that wasn’t enough to allow them to enter. The commander of this checkpoint explained that he’d been given strict orders to allow no one in or out of the Temple Mount.
Marcus was furious at the thought that he was being blocked by his own order. Pulling out his phone, he speed-dialed Roseboro, explained the delay, and handed the phone to the commander. Still, the commander refused to budge.
Tomer lit into him in Hebrew, but the commander only dug in his heels. So Tomer pulled out his own phone and dialed the personal number of Asher Gilad, director of the Mossad. Tomer spoke in rapid-fire Hebrew, then a moment later hung up and called another number. This time, he spoke more slowly, though still in Hebrew. The conversation lasted for almost a minute. Then Tomer handed the phone to the commander, and fifteen seconds later, the commander ordered his men to stand back and let Marcus and Tomer pass.
“Who was that?” Marcus asked as they cleared through the stone archway and enormous green wooden doors and stepped onto the Temple Mount together. “Who did that soldier just talk to?”
“His prime minister.”
Ahmet Mustafa ordered all of his senior advisors out of his office.
The moment they were gone, the Turkish president went to his wall safe, unlocked it, removed the satellite phone that Hamdi Yaşar had given him months before, and called the Al-Sawt producer in Doha.
Yaşar answered on the fourth ring.
“What is going on?” Mustafa demanded. “Why can’t I see what is happening on the Haram al-Sharif?”
“I don’t know,” Yaşar replied. “My guys say it was not them.”
“Was the feed cut? Did Israelis cut it? Why?”
“I said I don’t know,” Yaşar repeated, the tension thick in his voice. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I know more.”
“Where are you going?” Tomer asked. “The holding room is this way.”
“I’m not going to the holding room,” Marcus replied, heading the opposite direction down the colonnade. “Not yet.”
“Then where?”
“To see the Grand Mufti.”
Tomer caught up with him just as Marcus burst past two Secret Service agents into the front doors of the administrative offices of the Waqf and headed down the hall toward a dozen more heavily armed U.S., Israeli, and Saudi security men. When he got to the door of the office, he did not stop to knock but entered without warning.