End of Days, page 18
“But this cord didn’t spare the woman’s life. It’s the method by which she died. Doesn’t really fit into the biblical story.”
“I know. But he placed the cord outside the window. Maybe he thought by killing her he was sparing her.”
“That makes no sense.”
Lia looked around the room and said, “This guy is crazy. Nothing he does makes sense. Get some DNA off of that rope, and let’s match it.”
A uniformed police officer came up the stairs and said, “Ma’am, we have a couple of United States officials who want to see you.”
Rio stood up, saying, “What?”
The officer said, “I stopped them at the door, but they’re pretty insistent. They want to talk to the officer in charge.”
Lia looked at Rio and said, “More strangeness. What do you think?”
“Can’t hurt to talk to them. But not up here.”
“I agree.” She turned to the officer and said, “Tell them I’ll be down shortly.”
In the park, Garrett heard the words through his tablet and felt like he’d been struck by the hand of God.
She knows why I did it. She knows what this is about.
She had recognized the significance of the rope, and it was a sign. Maybe she could end his agony. Maybe she was the one. Maybe she could break through the spell that had held him in pain since Syria.
He felt a stirring in his groin, a tingle that he hadn’t felt since the torture in Syria. And became convinced. It was a sign.
She would have to die afterward, as originally planned, but that was already a given. He had no idea how she knew to track his fake identification. He had been sure all of his information was untraceable—but he hadn’t considered the IP address when ordering. That would put him in Rome. Something that was too close to let go. If she followed that thread, she might close in on him in a day—before he was to leave.
And how did they know he’d kissed the other one’s cheek? It didn’t really matter how they’d known, but they had his DNA now. They were much closer than he thought. All it would take was them showing up at the Knights of Malta with a swab kit and he was done.
No, she had to go. Tonight.
Through the cameras he’d installed, he knew her name was Vairo, and that she lived in Trastevere. That was enough to find her location. He would pay her a visit, but it wouldn’t be just to kill her. He wanted to know how she’d figured out the rope. Maybe she deserved more than just a death. Maybe she deserved redemption. She was special, of that he was sure.
He saw a car enter the parking lot, circling around as if in confusion. It parked, and a man and woman exited. The man was tall, without an ounce of fat on him, with short brown hair like he cut it himself and a rough visage. He had ice blue eyes and a white slash of a scar that tracked down his cheek into the stubble of his beard. Garrett had met many men such as him in his career, and honestly considered himself to be in that fraternity. It was obvious by the way he carried himself, he was not someone to trifle with. But why was he here?’
The woman was lithe, like a dancer, with a page-boy cut of black hair, but she moved like a leopard, searching the parking lot for threats. He recognized the danger in her immediately, like a dog sensing a threat at the door.
Who were they? And did they have anything to do with him?
He watched for them to enter his surveillance trap, but instead his video feed showed the inspector leaving the room. She appeared at the outside landing, but he now couldn’t hear what was being said. He pulled out a small monocular, staring at the group.
Waiting.
Chapter 38
I wound around the neighborhood known as the EUR, Shoshana giving me directions from her GPS for the last known contact from the Zello app in Bahrain. We found it, seeing it was a damn park. A large greenspace with kids running around and adults throwing balls for dogs. Which was bullshit. Why would the Croatian call a guy who was sitting in a park in Rome?
I said, “Okay, this is a bust. Let’s get out of here and back to the hotel. Maybe Knuckles and Brett will come up with something from the Knights of Malta headquarters.”
Shoshana said, “Not yet. Keep going. Circle around.”
I said, “What, are you looking for someone else to kill?”
She snapped her head to me, giving me her death penetration stare, and said, “That man was going to harm me. Don’t question my motives.”
On the flight over to Rome, we’d had a little come to Jesus meeting, where I’d laid into her for killing the Croatian when he was clearly no threat. I was incensed by the death. The sole purpose of the mission was to capture his ass, and we’d been superseded by the potential for a catastrophic attack, and so I’d focused on the mission against the target instead of the Croatian. But by the time she’d killed him, we were in control.
The bottom line was she’d short-circuited any ability to find out what was going on solely for vengeance of the Ramsad’s death. And that wasn’t something I could stomach.
I understood her loss at a visceral level, having lost my own family in a vicious murder years ago, along with friends killed and wounded in combat. If I could keep the mission in focus, so should she. But she wasn’t like other people. She was extremely linear. You hurt me, and I’ll exponentially hurt you, no matter the damage to the greater good. That’s just the way she lived.
I put on the brakes and said, “You aren’t even going to talk about this?”
She said, “Your Oversight Council gave us permission to explore here. Maybe you should listen to them.”
I said, “Shoshana, they gave us permission because they’re shitting their pants about going to war in the Middle East. Something we could have stopped if you hadn’t snapped that guy’s neck.”
She said nothing, staring out the window.
I said, “Do you understand where I’m coming from here? This isn’t like Lesotho. This isn’t Poland. You can’t run around killing people all the time. Sometimes we need the answers they have.”
She turned to me and said, “Why did you invite me to the wedding?”
What the hell?
Incredulous, I said, “What does that have to do with anything? I’m just asking you not to kill everyone you meet.”
She turned away and said, “You didn’t want me at the wedding. You invited me because you felt it a debt you owed. Because I saved your life. Nothing more.”
I ran my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots. I said, “What the hell are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
She looked at me and said, “I can see it. I feel it. You didn’t want me there.”
I was really regretting my choice of teams. I’d decided that we should split up the Israelis so we could act American, if that was called for, or Israeli, if that was the better choice, leaving one or the other to do the talking. Aaron and Jennifer were getting our hotel rooms, and, since the interview with the Knights of Malta was a pure U.S. State Department affair, Knuckles and Brett were doing that. Which left me with Shoshana. The Dark Angel.
And this ridiculous discussion in the heart of Rome while I was trying to prevent more deaths. But I understood it. She had always been a stone-cold killer, but in her heart, she was also vulnerable.
I sighed and said, “Shoshana, you look at me and call me Nephilim. My given name. Why is that?”
She considered for a moment, then said, “Because it is what you are.”
“So I’m some giant from the Old Testament saving the world.”
“Not a giant. But saving the world, yes. You are pure.”
I turned to her and said, “And so are you. You are me. Not having you at the wedding would be the same as not having Jennifer there.”
She sat still for a moment, then said, “Do you mean that?”
I chuckled and said, “Look into my eyes. Do that weird thing. Figure it out for yourself.”
She smiled and said, “I just don’t know who to trust in this world. Aaron is my touchstone. And Jennifer. I’m just not sure about you.”
I said, “Yeah, because I’m you in male flesh. You don’t trust yourself. Let’s get out of here.”
I circled around the park, entered an apartment complex, and began a three-point turn to get back out. Shoshana said, “Stop.”
I did, saying, “What now?”
She pointed to the end of the building, and I saw a bunch of crime scene tape. I said, “What?”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that the geolocation ended near here and there’s now crime scene tape?”
I leaned back and said, “Yeah, maybe.”
“Let’s go see what’s going on. It might be something that leads us to the Croatian’s contact.”
“Shoshana, come on. Why would this crime scene do that?”
She said, “It might be nothing, but then again, it might be something.”
She exited the car and said, “It’s time to be Americans. Get that State Department badge out. Let’s go see.”
I sighed again and exited the vehicle. I thought it was bullshit, but then again, with Shoshana, you never knew.
We reached the stairwell, and I showed a half-assed identification saying I was a consular officer for the United States. Of course, if they did any checking, we were done.
The officer wouldn’t allow us up, but told us someone was coming down.
A woman of about forty appeared, with a fairly attractive face, a mole right above her lip, shoulder-length hair, and an air of being in charge. Immediately, when I saw her, I thought, This should be Knuckles’s job, because her hard-ass appearance would melt when she saw him.
She said, “Yes? Can I see some identification?”
I flashed my counterfeit credentials, and she seemed to believe it. She said, “What do you want here? Do you have some interest in this killing?”
I said, “Killing? No. We’re missing a man, and this was his last known location. We walked into this purely by coincidence. When I saw the tape, I thought it prudent to see what was going on, just in case.”
Shoshana slipped past us and began climbing the stairs. The woman shouted, “Hey! This is a crime scene!”
Shoshana began running up the stairs and I thought, Here we go. Crazy-ass shit yet again.
The inspector sprinted behind her, and I followed, saying, “I’m sorry. She’s really worried about her friend. Is it a man who was killed?”
The inspector didn’t answer, instead shouting, “Stop! Stop going up!”
We reached the third landing and Shoshana exited, going to the door with two cops outside. She managed to get past them, and then was finally stopped in the foyer, two officers holding her in place.
She wasn’t fighting them.
Which was a blessed relief, because if she had, they’d both be dead.
We entered behind her. The inspector said, “What the hell is going on? Why are you here?”
Shoshana looked at me and said, “This is it. He was here. The Ramsad killer was here.”
Chapter 39
I was prepared to haul Shoshana’s ass out of the building just to prevent a catastrophic compromise of our cover, but when I heard her words, I paused. Shoshana had some ethereal ability to see past the mortal world. She could sense things that others could not. In the past, I had scoffed at it, but deep inside, where the primordial instinct lay, I believed. It wasn’t something that could be explained, and I’d be the last person to ever admit it. But I believed it was real.
The inspector looked at her, then at me, saying, “What’s she talking about?”
I said, “Nothing. She has a habit of going off the rails. Sorry to bother you.”
I glared at Shoshana and said, “Time to go.”
The inspector snatched my arm and said, “What’s she talking about? What’s a Ramsad? Is that like a prostitute?”
I said, “No. She’s just crazy to find her friend. I’m sorry this happened.”
Shoshana looked toward an open kitchen window, seeing a rope hanging half in and half out. She said, “That red cord is the weapon, isn’t it?”
Lia heard the words and squinted her eyes at me, wondering what Shoshana had seen. I’ll be damned if she wasn’t reading me the same way Shoshana did. She understood I didn’t want to talk in front of the other uniformed personnel. She said, “Okay. Get the hell out of here. Right now.”
I said, “Gladly. Just let my friend go.”
They did, and we began walking down the stairs. I said, “What was that all about?”
Shoshana said, “The mastermind was here. The killer of the Ramsad. I felt it. I could smell it. I saw it. I could taste it. That body in there was his kill.”
I knew she was trying to explain to a mere mortal what she saw, using the senses of an average human, but she hadn’t “seen” or “smelled” or “tasted” anything. It was something else, and I wasn’t sure if it was just her wanting to believe it true, or if it really was true.
We reached the landing and I heard footsteps above me. Like I thought would happen, the inspector appeared and said, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to find out. And it won’t be pretty if you have information for our investigation and are holding out.”
Her Italian accent was adorable, making me wish yet again Knuckles was here.
I glanced at Shoshana and said, “Look, we have no idea what’s happened here, but we might have information about it from another investigation. We came here because of that. We had no idea about any killings in Rome. We’re looking for a guy who’s working against U.S. interests, not a killer of whores. If you tell us what you know, we’ll do the same. I think we’re looking for the same man, but for different reasons.”
“My name is Lia Vairo. I’m in charge of this investigation. I can pull you in by the authority vested in me.”
I looked at Shoshana and said, “What do you think?”
Shoshana did her weird stare over the woman, then turned to me, saying, “Yes.”
I saw Lia disconcerted with the stare, just like I felt when Shoshana did it to me. That thing wasn’t pleasant.
Lia said, “What the hell was that?”
I said, “I know you can arrest me. I’d prefer it if you didn’t. This is much bigger than a murder. I’ll help you find the killer, and you’ll help me prevent a lot more deaths than these whores here in Rome.”
She bristled, saying, “They might be whores to you, but they’re humans to me. Maybe I’ll haul you in right now.”
Shoshana took her arm and bored into her eyes. She said, “Don’t do that. We want to help, but we can’t do it in official channels. Please, trust us.”
Lia pulled her arm away halfheartedly, saying nothing, just staring at Shoshana.
Shoshana touched her arm again, this time gently, saying, “Give us a place to meet. Outside of official channels.”
I honestly thought Shoshana’s next words would be “These are not the droids you are looking for,” but that didn’t happen.
Lia said, “Why the secrecy? Why should I do that?”
I said, “Because I’m asking. Nothing more. You want to solve this crime, and I want to solve mine. But I can’t do it officially.”
She said, “Are you CIA? Is that what this is? Is the killer some CIA asset you’re trying to protect?”
I laughed and said, “No, we aren’t CIA, and I have no idea who this killer is, but I think he’s about to kill a lot more people than these women in Rome. And I’m sorry I called them whores. I understand they’re human, and I meant no disparagement by that, but if you can help us find him, it’ll help us both out.”
“So why the unofficial location?”
“Let’s just say it would be better if the government didn’t know we were looking. Both the U.S. government and yours.”
Her brow furrowed, and I could tell she didn’t believe a word I was saying. “So you’re not U.S. State Department?”
Shoshana produced a passport and said, “Actually, we’re Israeli. Following a lead.”
“What?”
I rolled my eyes, now realizing we were going to jail. I thought about calling Jennifer before they took my cell phone, and Shoshana spoke again.
“This guy is killing from the Old Testament. And he’s going to keep killing until he reaches Revelation in the New Testament. We want to stop him.”
I thought, What the hell is she talking about? Old Testament?
Lia said, “So the red cord he used to murder is real?”
Shoshana said, “Yes. It was.”
Lia nodded, and I was beginning to believe they were both crazy. What the hell does a red cord have to do with any of this?
We heard Lia’s name shouted from the stairwell, then the clomping of feet. Lia glanced back, then pulled a card from her pocket, saying, “This is my house. Meet me there tonight at seven. Don’t tell anyone about the meeting. And I mean no one.”
Shoshana took the card, dialed a number on it, and Lia’s phone rang. She said, “That’s my phone. Call it if something happens.”
“What’s that mean?”
Shoshana glanced at me, then said, “The killer doing this will attack anyone he perceives as a threat. You are that threat.”
The clomping of feet ended, and a man appeared in the doorway. She said, “Rio, no problems. They were just leaving.”
He gave me his hard cop stare, saying, “What did they want?”
She said, “Nothing. Just a mixed-up thing. Let’s get back upstairs.”
They left and we walked back to our car. I said, “What the hell was that about the Old Testament? I mean, I’m glad it worked out, but what was it? You mentioned it the first time you asked me to join you, then on the flight to Zurich. Why do you keep talking about that?”
She said, “I’m honestly not sure. I’ve felt from the beginning that the killer of our people and yours wasn’t from Islam. It’s biblical. The murderer of that woman didn’t do it for joy. He has a greater scheme, and I don’t know why, but it involves Israel.”
