The Shadow of Death (Psalm 23 Mysteries Book 9) (18 page)

But she was still in shock. Maybe it was the brutality of it. Maybe it was the fact that Omar had been unarmed and helpless. She took a deep breath.
Jeremiah executed him.

Cindy knew Jeremiah had killed people. She’d even suspected that it had been a lot of people, but she hadn’t known that was his primary job for the Mossad. That was one thing he hadn’t shared. Yet knowing that made everything else make sense, particularly his fear of getting pulled back into his old life. All that flashed through her mind, but she didn’t say anything as he took her hand and pulled her toward the door after he had grabbed a phone off Omar’s body.

“We’re going to have to hit some busier streets. Stay right with me and keep your eyes on the ground. Don’t make eye contact with anyone and don’t speak,” he said.

She nodded, not sure what she’d even say at the moment. Her heart was in her throat and she was still in shock.

They moved fast, running down alleyways, speed walking down streets where there were people present. She stayed so close to Jeremiah that their arms were frequently in contact. It seemed like they had to have traversed half the city by the time he pulled them into a dark alley beside another abandoned building.

“We’ll rest here for a little while, catch our breath,” Jeremiah said.

She realized that had to be for her benefit because he didn’t even seem to have broken a sweat and yet she was panting like an animal.

He squatted down but he didn’t relax. She could see the tightness in all his muscles. He was constantly swiveling his head, eyes roving everywhere as he looked for danger.

“Now you know everything,” he said after a minute, startling her. He didn’t look at her and she couldn’t pick up on his emotions from his voice which had sounded cold, detached.

“Not quite everything. Why did you decide to retire?” she asked when she could breathe normally enough to get the words out.

“I didn’t. They forced me to retire,” he said.

“Why? I would think they would always need people with your...skills,” she said, thinking about how Solomon and he had danced around his job experience using that same word when talking in front of her.

“They also need people who follow orders,” he said.

“Did you refuse to kill someone they told you to?” she asked.

He turned and looked at her and gave a short, harsh laugh. Then he shook his head. “That would make everything easier to accept, I’m sure. But that’s not the case.”

“Then why did they force you to retire?”

He turned away, resuming his relentless scanning of the area. “I was sent to a high level meeting of a terrorist cell that was involved in everything from bombings to human trafficking. My orders were to kill one man, the second highest ranking member of the cell that was present. I spent a day setting up for it, preparing. And then it came time to do it.”

“What happened?” she asked when he paused.

He sighed, but continued. “I thought to myself that who knew when we’d have this opportunity again. There were ten men there, and I killed all of them.”

Cindy sat very still, listening, trying to take it in. Her mind was conjuring up images that she didn’t like, extrapolating based on the things she had actually seen Jeremiah do.

“Two hours later I’m face-to-face with my handler. I never knew the man could move that fast. He was furious, demanded to know why I hadn’t followed orders. I reminded him that he chose me because of my ability to make decisions in the blink of an eye and to adapt to changing circumstances. He asked what had changed about the entire operation that I’d ended up killing everyone. I told him nothing had changed with the operation, but that I’d realized there was no reason to let even one of those men go free. Then he gave me a reason, a good one. They had managed to turn one of the cell members. The man had recently had a child giving him a newfound respect for life and a sudden, healthy fear of his compatriots. When I shot the number two guy he was going to play the hero and save the life of the number one guy at that meeting, thus earning his trust. You see, all those men were evil men, but my bosses had a plan to try and get to the real head of the organization, a man who had not shown his face in public in ten years. The turncoat was their way in. And with ten well-placed shots instead of one, I destroyed months of work and their one chance at getting that guy.”

“And that’s why they forced you to retire?” she asked softly.

“Actually, no. Agents blunder. It happens. They were looking at some vacation time for me so I could get my head straight. Instead they forced me to retire because I told them that even given all the new information, I’d still kill those ten men again regardless of the consequences. Everyone of them deserved to die and I didn’t have the stomach to let them go for any reason. My handler knew he could never again trust me to follow an order.”

“Given what you had done I’m surprised they just let you retire.”

“Solomon was angry enough to kill me that day. I understood. Instead, though, he sent me to America, had me retrained, and set me up with a new identity and a new life.”

“But why?”

“Because he knew that someday he might need someone who wouldn’t follow orders.”

They needed to get out of the city, but they were going to need help. They couldn’t go back to the hotel and their fake passports were locked up in its safe so even if they made it to the airport they’d have a devil of a time getting on a plane.

Jeremiah pulled out his cell phone. He couldn’t risk having Solomon send someone to help them. There had to be a leak somewhere in his inner circle else how would the enemy have known when he sent someone to California to get Jeremiah?

There was only one man that might be able to help, but it was a long shot. He called Martin.

“Hello?” the man answered.

“It’s your cousin the rabbi. I’m needing a favor worse than I did the other day.”

“Unless you’re a long way from the States there’s nothing I can do to help you at the moment,” the man said tersely.

“Lucky for both of us I’m not. I have information you need.”

“What kind of information?” Martin asked cautiously.

“I know who’s going after the Rock,” Jeremiah said, unwilling to say more on an open line. He didn’t know for sure who all was involved but he did have some names to pass on and a dead conspirator.

“Tell me.”

“First, I need an extraction for me and a certain young lady.”

“You brought her into this?” Martin hissed.

“Really didn’t have a choice. An associate was too busy to do me a favor,” Jeremiah said, letting sarcasm drip from his tongue.

Martin swore. “Okay, where are you?”

“Tehran.”

More swearing. “Care to be more specific?”

Jeremiah gave him their location. It was risky, but he needed the help.

“Alright, I’ll be sending some men to get you in fifteen minutes. Sit tight, and don’t shoot. I’ll be the guy in front.”

Martin ended the call and Jeremiah turned to Cindy. “Help is on the way.”

“Okay.”

He tried not to look at her. He could hear the pain and fear in her voice. He knew she was physically spent. What he was afraid of, though, was looking at her and seeing condemnation in her eyes. It would destroy him, and before he could let that happen he had to stop the terror plot. Then he would make sure that Cindy made it back home safely and if she hated him, feared him as he believed she must then he would leave her alone forever.

Cindy was exhausted both mentally and physically. More than all the activity, the stress was what was wearing her down. Her body wasn’t used to the constant onslaught of anxiety and adrenalin. In the last few years she’d experienced similar things but not so sustained with so little rest for so long. She had no idea how Jeremiah had managed to make a career out of this.

Jeremiah had said that help was on the way. She didn’t know who he had called, but she would be grateful to anyone who could get them out of there.

His story was upsetting, but she understood so much more now that she knew it. She couldn’t blame him for his desire to kill the entire terrorist group who was responsible for so much death and human misery. He’d said they’d even been responsible for human trafficking which just made her sick to the bottom of her soul. She was glad they were dead. She just wished that the rest who participated in such abominations were as well.

“Why did Mark call?” she asked.

“He discovered who killed the student a couple of years ago. Turns out the boy’s brothers were involved in some sort of terrorist plot and he was pretty sure it was connected to what we were investigating. It is.”

“How do you know?”

“The brothers are named Khalid and Tamir.”

“
Tamir? As in the man who just married Omar’s daughter?”

“It looks like it. If Mark had called just five minutes earlier things would be a lot different right now.”

“Yes, they could be even worse,” Cindy pointed out.

She thought about Omar’s daughter. She wondered if the woman knew she was marrying a terrorist or if she had known what her husband and her father were up to. Cindy hoped she did. It was easier to think about her that way than to think about her as young, naive, unwittingly in love with the wrong man, and about to find out that her father had been killed on her wedding day. She didn’t want it to be that complicated. She wanted it to be simple. She wanted the woman to have known exactly what she was getting herself into so she would know exactly why her father had died and her husband had to as well.

“Are you okay?” Jeremiah asked.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Finally with a sigh she said, “No, but I will be. Right now I just want to get out of here.”

Jeremiah stood and she could see the gun in his hand. “Hopefully this is our ride,” he said.

“Someone’s coming?” she asked, scrambling to her feet.

He nodded silently.

It took almost half a minute more but she finally heard footsteps. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she wondered if they belonged to friend or foe. She kept her eyes fixed on the corner closest to them. She could sense people just around the bend, out of sight.

“Rabbi, don’t shoot,” a voice said softly.

She glanced at Jeremiah. He was standing slightly sideways, and he had the gun raised.

A moment later a man cautiously rounded the corner. He also had a gun raised. Cindy blinked. She recognized him, but it took her a moment to realize from where.

“Martin?” she asked, bewildered.

“Just your friendly, neighborhood salesman. Anyone here need some medical supplies?”

Relief washed over her. Jeremiah had told her that the man worked for the C.I.A.

Three more men slowly rounded the corner, all with guns drawn.

“Everything okay, rabbi?” Martin asked.

“They’d be better if you and your men put down your guns,” Jeremiah said evenly.

“How about you go first?” Martin suggested.

“Not going to happen.”

“Hey, you called me, remember?” Martin said.

“I did. I’m still trying to decide if that was the smart move.”

“What’s going on?” Cindy asked as the relief she had been feeling quickly faded.

“Just trying to establish what side everyone’s on,” Martin said.

“You have me outnumbered. I’m at the disadvantage,” Jeremiah said.

“That’s bull, and you know it, rabbi.”

“How do you figure?”

“Right before you called I had an interesting chat with one of my counterparts from Israel. He told me that a retired operative was back and had gone rogue.”

“If that was true you’d already be dead,” Jeremiah said evenly.

“Unless you needed me for something, say to get a certain lady to safety,” Martin said.

“We’re all on the same side,” Cindy protested. She wanted to scream at them, tell them they were all being idiots and that they needed to work together because time was running out. She barely managed to control her tone of voice, though, knowing that anything more aggressive or startling could inadvertently cause someone to start shooting.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Martin said.

“How do I know you’re not lying about your information?” Jeremiah said. “You spent time over here. For all I know your sympathies were aroused.”

“You didn’t tell me who you were,” Martin said.

“I never tell anyone who I am,” Jeremiah hissed.

Cindy barely managed to stop herself from blurting out that what he had just said was most certainly true.

“And yet everyone knows of the great
malakh ha-mavet. I just didn’t know I had already met him. Pretty slick cover, pretending to be a rabbi.”

“He’s not pretending. He is a rabbi,” Cindy hissed. She couldn’t stand it anymore. While the clock ran out to stop the real terrorists they were in danger of being killed by the very people who should be helping them.