Pandora's grave

The cruiser

The lights of Tel Aviv shone in the distance, casting their shimmering gleam across miles of open sea.

They were drifting now, engines completely cut, lights out. Drifting inexorably in on the tide. Harry and Thomas stood in the cabin of the cruiser, poring over surveillance photos on the screen of Tex’s laptop. “This one was taken in Marseilles a year ago-al-Farouk was treated like a hero by the Muslim community after his activities in Lebanon. GIGN tried to move in, but they got nowhere with the complete lack of local cooperation,” Harry added, referencing France’s elite counter-terrorism unit.

Thomas acknowledged the information with a nod, waiting for Harry to continue. A click of the mouse and the image on-screen changed. “This is the only other ‘face’ we have on this mission. Harun Larijani, the nephew of President Shirazi and a colonel in the IRGC. He’s never shown up on our radar before, so these are the only two photos we have of him.”

“Do we expect either one of them to be on-site?” Thomas asked, committing both faces to memory.

“Langley’s dossier on al-Farouk would lead me to believe he’ll be there. Appearing in Europe like that, like some sort of extremist fundraiser-the man’s let his ego overrule his judgment in the past.” Irony crept in Harry’s voice, along with a cold certainty. “And what could be more satisfying to the ego than to start a world war? He’ll be there, all right.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Up high. Eyes in the sky.” The screen changed to an overlay map of Jerusalem, showing both roads and topography. Harry tapped the screen with his index finger. “Right here.”

A grin spread across Thomas’s face. “Looks good. What’s security like?”

“At the church itself? Virtually non-existent.”

3:00 A.M.

The Church of the Redeemer

Jerusalem

There was little moon, the skies over Jerusalem shrouded by clouds, but the white limestone of the German Lutheran church glistened in the ambient light of the city. Built in the late 19th century and dedicated in 1898 in a ceremony attended by none other than Kaiser Wilhelm II, of Great War fame, the church had seen much in the hundred-plus years since its founding.

At the western entrance, near the Muristan market, an icon of the Lamb of God surmounted the door, flanked by the engraving of a Prussian eagle on one side and a Maltese cross on the other, the third symbol dating back to the Crusading order of St. John.

The only Protestant church in the Old City, it was still in use as both a tourist destination and a functioning house of worship. And as Harry had said, security was virtually non-existent.

Above the church, high above the neo-Romanesque architecture of the Berliner Friedrich Adler, rose the bell tower. From its lofty height, one could gaze down on well-nigh the entire city.

And have a clear shot at almost anyone in the Haram al-Sharif…

7:09 P.M. Eastern Time

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

“We just heard from WHIPPOORWILL,” Carol Chambers announced, standing in the door of David Lay’s office. “Nichols and the team have made it safely to land. Phase 2 is beginning.”

There was no response and for a long moment she thought her father hadn’t heard the message. Then a long, heavy sigh escaped his lips. “You realize what we just did, don’t you? We put a team on the ground inside an ally’s borders. It’s like playing Russian roulette-God knows the Clandestine Service won’t survive if this goes south. It’ll be the ammunition used to shut down all our capacity for black-ops, everything we’ve built since the Bush administration.”

Carol gazed keenly at him across the room. “Is that the game Hancock is playing?”

“God knows,” David Lay repeated, shaking his head. “He’s given us Hobson’s choice-which is no choice at all, really. How are you holding up?”

A faint smile crossed her face. “The coffee consumed by the op-center staff in the last twenty-four hours would float the Titanic. We’re wide awake.”

“People understand why we can’t bring on another shift?”

“Operational need-to-know,” Carol nodded. “Restrict the number of people that realize we could be triggering a world war.”

A grim smile. “That’s right. Housekeeping moved a sofa into Conference Room #3. I’ll be in there if you need me. It’s going to be a long night…”

3:15 A.M. Local Time

The marina

Tel Aviv-Yafo, Israel

They left separately, their departures staggered in time. First, Thomas-then Tex and Farshid Hossein together. A body of men traveling together tended to attract undue attention in Palestine, something Harry wanted to avoid at all costs.

“You understand I’ll need you to take point on this,” Harry said when he and Hamid were alone at last. Davood was behind the wheel of an idling SUV ten yards away, waiting. “With Husayni insisting on only Muslims entering the masjid, you’re going to be the one most likely to be exposed.”