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Word came back almost immediately.

Kailea was not okay. She’d been hit in the left leg. The bullet had torn through her femoral artery, and she was in danger of bleeding out. Tomer reported that he’d already ripped off his belt to create a makeshift tourniquet. But he ordered a chopper to land —or at least hover —near his position and medevac the woman out immediately.

Even as Marcus heard the words and tried to process the severity of his partner’s wounds, he was racing toward al-Qassab. When he reached the Syrian, he aimed his automatic rifle at the man’s head and kicked the guy’s weapon out of reach. Behind him he could hear the Israeli commandos coming up fast. When they arrived, he held up a hand and ordered them to back off and give him space to operate. Then he tossed his own M4 to the closest soldier and told another to grab the Uzi.

With the immediate environment secure, Marcus speed-dialed the war room and let Roseboro know al-Qassab was wounded and in custody.

“Is he talking?” Roseboro asked.

“He will,” Marcus replied. “Where’s POTUS?”

“They’re all at the church.”

“Did they hear the gunfire?”

“The principals didn’t, but the agents posted outside did.”

“What about the press?”

“I don’t think so. Everyone covering the church visit is deep inside the cathedral at the moment.”

“All right. I’ll call you back the moment I have something.”

“Great work, Ryker —really.”

“Don’t jinx it, Carl. We’re not out of this thing yet.”

The Grand Mufti’s assistant, breathless and pale, returned to the office.

The staff was still glued to the continuing live coverage of the most powerful Muslim in the world, a hajji from Mecca, walking through a church building that not a single one of them had ever been to or even considered going to, although the historic site was close to where they were sitting now. Indeed, the group was so captivated by the unfolding drama, no one noticed their colleague slipping back into the room.

“Well?” al-Azzam asked in a whisper.

“The Secret Service said he left,” his secretary said quietly.

“What do you mean, left?”

“Departed the plaza, left the premises —gone,” she said.

“That’s impossible. He’s supposed to be running the whole event.”

“That’s what I said. But apparently he told one of the agents that his wife was having an emergency, and he had to go. He said you were in charge, and he’d call you on a landline the moment he got the chance. The agent gave me this.”

From her purse, she pulled out a lanyard. The Grand Mufti took it in his hands and stared at the printed name under the plastic. Sure enough, it read, Dr. Hussam Mashrawi, Executive Director —VIP / ALL-ACCESS PASS.

Al-Azzam’s face grew pale. “Get Yasmine on the phone,” he whispered.

The assistant obeyed immediately. She picked up the landline and dialed the Mashrawis’ home number by heart. After ten rings, she shook her head and hung up.

“Try her mobile.”

Again the assistant picked up the receiver and dialed from memory. This time Yasmine answered on the second ring.

“Hello, Mrs. Mashrawi, I have your father on the line.”

The Grand Mufti breathed a sigh of relief and took the receiver. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied.

“Are you at home?”

“No, with some neighbors.”

“Doing what?”

“Watching the coverage, what else?”

“Is Hussam with you?”

“No, why would he be?” she said. “Isn’t he with you? Your big moment is coming up. I’m so excited to see it.”

“Has Hussam called you today?”

“No.”

“Texted you?”

“No, he had to leave his phone at home. Didn’t you all?”

Al-Azzam ignored the question. “When was the last time you saw or spoke with him?”

“This morning, just before he left for the mosque. Why?”

“No reason, I suppose. Just a misunderstanding.”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“The kind that happens when we don’t have our mobile phones. Don’t you worry. I love you, but I’m very busy, and I have to go now.”

“Okay, Father —I love you, too.”

Al-Azzam hung up the phone. He could see in his assistant’s eyes that she was desperate to know what was going on, but he didn’t know himself. He motioned for her to join the rest of the group; then he turned and looked out the window.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. And the old man suddenly feared he knew what.