96

15 MINUTES BEFORE AIR FORCE ONE LANDS IN ISRAEL

Oleg Kraskin snapped awake.

After operating on fewer than three hours’ sleep for each of the last six nights, the Raven hadn’t realized that he had drifted off. But a series of audible pings on his computer got his attention.

Trying desperately to shake off the fatigue and refocus on his work, Oleg opened the two alerts on his computer screen. He read them both, then read them a second time. Confused, he looked at the time stamp on each and suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Fully awake now, he grabbed his satellite phone and pressed speed-dial one.

“Yes?” came the familiar voice at the other end.

“It’s me. I’ve got something.”

“What is it?”

“NSA just picked up a hit on one of Ali Haqqani’s known phone numbers.”

“Where?”

“An apartment complex on the Mount of Olives.”

“You’re sure it’s him?”

“I’m sure it’s his phone,” Oleg said.

“Do you have the coordinates?”

“I’m sending them to your phone right now.”

Oleg could hear Marcus relaying the information to someone —Kailea Curtis, he assumed —and trying to figure out the fastest way to get there.

“How many pings did you get?” Marcus asked.

“Two.”

“In a row?”

There was a long pause.

“Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” Marcus pressed.

“Da, I’m here.”

“Were the two hits back-to-back?”

“No, they weren’t,” Oleg confessed. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I fell asleep at the desk. One came in hours ago, the other just twenty minutes ago.”

Marcus ended the call and sprinted back through the Christian Quarter.

Kailea was right behind him.

When they got to the Jaffa Gate, Marcus tossed her the keys and ordered her to drive while he called Tomer. New to the city and still unfamiliar with the roads, Kailea put the address the Raven had just sent them into Waze, then gunned the engine, did a K-turn, and roared back through the gate and down the ramp. At the light, the GPS app told her to turn south on Hebron Road. She did, making an illegal left turn on HaMefaked Street. As they sped around the south side of Mount Zion, Marcus finally reached the Shin Bet officer and told him where they were headed.

“I’m on my way,” said Tomer. “What’s your ETA?”

“Waze says nine minutes.”

“With all the checkpoints, it’s going to take me almost twenty,” said Tomer. “But hang tight and don’t go in until I get there.”

“Don’t worry,” Marcus assured him. “We’ll be careful.”

“I’m serious, Ryker. The place could be booby-trapped. I’ll dispatch a bomb squad and a tactical unit from police headquarters. They’re right on Mount Scopus, not far away. And I’ll call in air support as well, in case Haqqani makes a run for it. But do not go in until I arrive.”

“I’ll keep you posted —gotta go,” Marcus said, refusing to assure the Israeli that he’d wait for backup.

Kailea zigzagged up the mountain. She took a sharp right onto Gey Bin Hinom Street, then a left on Ma’alot Ir David Street. Soon they turned right onto Derech HaOfel, then right onto El-Mansuriya Street. Two minutes later they arrived. Kailea jumped the curb and slammed on the brakes. Marcus bolted out the passenger side and drew his weapon, telling Kailea to stay behind the wheel with the engine running.

Every instinct in his body was urging him to rush the building and kick in the front door, but Tomer’s warning echoed in his ears. This wasn’t his country or his show. Fortunately, four police cruisers and a tactical unit came roaring down the street. A moment later, the bomb squad was there as well, and though Marcus couldn’t see them yet, he could already hear a pair of police helicopters approaching from the south.

Marcus speed-dialed Tomer as the Israeli units surrounded the house.

“We’re here —all of us —how close are you?”

“I’m still twelve minutes out,” he said.

“We can’t wait,” Marcus said. “We’re going in.”

Marcus hung up and gave the Israeli commander the order to move. Marcus wasn’t sure why the man listened to him, but he did. The Israeli commandos simultaneously burst into the first-floor dental offices from the front, back, and side doors, then —encountering no initial resistance —sent bomb-sniffing robots in ahead of them. Marcus knew it was better than risking the lives of human officers, but it was also taking precious time they did not have.