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A descending Black Hawk helicopter drowned out the shot.

And the scream.

There was no clear place to land, and Marcus doubted the roof of the adjacent apartment could withstand the chopper’s weight. Instead, it hovered about thirty feet above the roof. Two ropes dropped from the open side door. Two medics fast-roped down to the roof, and the soldiers still in the bird lowered a stretcher to them.

Marcus watched as the medics checked Kailea’s vital signs. He saw them give her an injection of something and hook her up to an IV. They carefully lifted her onto the stretcher and strapped her in. Soon the soldiers in the chopper were hoisting her up and bringing her on board. The two medics were hoisted back up as well, and they were gone.

Al-Qassab was still screaming. Marcus was about to reengage him, but his phone rang.

“Ryker —go.”

“Agent Ryker?” said the muffled voice at the other end, barely above a whisper.

“Who is this?” Marcus asked, not recognizing the number on the caller ID.

“Agent Ryker, this is Amin al-Azzam.”

“Your Excellency?”

“Yes, yes, I need to speak with you.”

“Well, I apologize, but this is not a good time. Can you call back in a few —?”

But the old man cut him off in midsentence. “No, you don’t understand, Agent Ryker. This is a matter of the utmost urgency.”

“So is this, Your Excellency. Really, I will call you back —”

But again al-Azzam cut him off. “My son-in-law is missing.”

“Dr. Mashrawi?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean, missing?”

“He cleared through security early this morning. But no one has seen him for the last few hours, and we haven’t been able to find him. I’ve sent my people throughout the grounds, but there’s no sign of him. Now one of your agents says he’s left.”

None of this was making sense, and al-Qassab would not shut up. Marcus checked his watch, motioned for the commander to watch the prisoner, then pressed the phone to his ear, plugged the other ear with his finger, and walked away fifty feet or so to try to hear better. “Left?” he asked. “Left where?”

“Left the grounds, into the Old City. My aide just handed me Hussam’s security lanyard. She says Hussam told one of your agents he had to attend to an emergency with his wife.”

“Your daughter?”

“Exactly.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“That’s just the thing, Agent Ryker. I called Yasmine. She’s fine. She’s at a neighbor’s, watching the coverage of today’s events. She says she hasn’t seen or heard from Hussam since he left for work, early this morning.”

Again Marcus glanced at his watch. In his earpiece, he could hear the traffic picking up. POTUS and his colleagues were wrapping up their visit to the church. They were preparing to move to the Temple Mount. Marcus still had an enemy combatant to interrogate, and time was running out.

“Look, Your Excellency, with all due respect, I don’t have time for a game of hide-and-seek. The entourage is leaving the Church of the Holy Sepulcher right now. They should be to your location in ten minutes. Now . . .”

“Agent Ryker, listen to me,” the Grand Mufti nearly shouted through the phone. “Hussam is not only missing. I believe he may be the bomber you’re looking for.”