The two men stared at Ghost, and their smiles grew bigger.
Swell.
“Fetch dog,” laughed the major and made the same sign to ward off evil that the first goon had made back at my hotel-touching his heart and drawing a line above his eyes.
“If you kill that piece of shit dog we will make it quick for you,” said the maintenance man.
He smiled when he said it.
It was bad enough that he made that suggestion. He shouldn’t have smiled when he did, because until that moment I was genuinely terrified.
Now I was pissed.
“Here’s an idea,” I said conversationally, and I threw the screwdriver at the maintenance guy with my left hand and drew my Beretta with my right.
Two things happened at once.
The Upier in the coveralls shocked the hell out of me by catching the screwdriver.
A microsecond later I put a bullet through the bridge of his nose.
Do not fuck with my dog.
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
Aghajari Oil Refinery
Iran
June 16, 6:12 a.m.
The maintenance man flew back. The bullet blew out the back of his head, and the force of impact snapped his neck. Hollow points. Booyah.
The major didn’t stop to gape at his fallen comrade. He moved like a blur and I pivoted, firing round after round at him. Ghost barked and lunged, but he was trained not to run into a field of fire.
The Upier was stunningly fast, but he really ought to have run serpentine. I fired at the target and caught him with my fourth round. He was fast, but a nine millimeter bullet is a whole lot faster. The round hit him sideways, clipping his elbow and drilling into his hip. From the way he fell it was clear that his pelvis was shattered.
“Hit,” I told Ghost, and he flashed across the concrete floor toward the screaming vampire. The major’s screams instantly jumped to a higher register.
It was over very fast, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of Ghost’s aggression or the bullet. Jonatha Corbiel-Newton had made some very smart recommendations, and we’d used them. A drop of garlic oil into the mouth of a hollow point, sealed in place with a bead of wax. We’d used the same syringe to inject garlic into all of our shotgun shells, sealing the plastic cases with a cigarette lighter.
And we had some other surprises.
Which left a big problem.
Echo Team was still upstairs, and there were a couple of dozen Red Knights somewhere in the facility. The Knights didn’t know that and I couldn’t call my team. Lydia either hadn’t found Echo Team yet or something was slowing up their progress up there.
My instinct was to hot-foot it out of there and find them; but that was poor thinking. Just because the bomb wasn’t active at the moment didn’t mean that it couldn’t be activated by one of the Upierczi here in the refinery. The only way I could prevent that would be to remove the entire triggering system, and that was going to take ten careful minutes. Inactive or not, it was still a nuke and there was always the possibility of booby traps.
Ghost suddenly looked past me and barked. Loud, angry, and scared.
I spun, bringing the pistol up.
Red Knights.
And I didn’t have nearly enough bullets.
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
Arklight Camp
Outskirts of Tehran
June 16, 6:15 a.m.
Church closed his phone and thought about what Alexander Chismer-Toys-had told him. Much of it was information he already had. Some of it was Toys’s guesswork whose accuracy Church doubted. Some of it, though…
Hugo’s cancer.
Upier 531. Dr. Hasbrouck.
The disease and its possible cure explained two key parts of this puzzle. The viciousness was born out of frustration as a narcissistic megalomaniac lashed out from his deathbed. Vox wanted to light a nuclear pyre to mark his own death. Very dramatic, mused Church. Very Hugo.
Then there was the improbable amount of useful information on Rasouli’s flash drive. Vox had used Rasouli to provide the DMS with virtually everything it needed to hunt for the nukes. Why would he do that?
It made no sense unless Dr. Hasbrouck’s treatment had worked.
Hugo no longer wanted to burn the world because he intended to live in it.
Toys had not said any of this in plain language. The young man was more than half crazy with guilt and self-loathing-both for past actions and for betraying Vox with this call-but the essence of Vox’s plan was buried within Toys’s rambling confession.
One element remained obscure, however. Nicodemus. No matter how this thing was turned, the old priest-if priest he was-leered out at them.
Church called Joe Ledger, but there was no signal.
The most crucial thing was the leverage Vox had used to stall Grigor long enough in order to receive the full set of Upier 531 treatments.
The code scrambler. Without that, the nukes were dangerous, but they were sleeping dragons. He called for Lilith and briefed her and then used the team com channel to call Top Sims.
“Deacon for Sergeant Rock.”
“Go for Rock.”
“Sit rep.”
“Cowboy is at zero point. We’re converging on his location. No fuss, no muss upstairs.”
“Proceed with utmost haste. High probability that the nuke is not yet armed. Grigor may be on the way there with the code scrambler. Unknown if other activation codes have been sent. Regardless, obtaining that scrambler is now priority one, superseding all mission objectives and restrictions. Confirm understanding”
“Copy that.”
“Sergeant Rock, listen to me. The Red Knights are the hostiles. That is confirmed. All other combatants are secondary.”
“Copy that, too. We’re ready for them.”
“There are no time-outs, no rematches in this game. We win this or we lose.”
“Hooah. Rock out.”
Church made similar calls to the other teams. It was only Toys’s guess that Grigor would be coming to Aghajari. It was closest; Grigor’s Kingdom of Shadows was a mile below Tehran. However, all of the teams had to be prepared to encounter Upierczi.
When he was done he called the president.
As he ended that call, Bug rang through.
“Okay, Boss,” said Bug, “here goes. Oil refineries by nation are as follows. For I we have Iran, Iraq, Israel, and Indonesia, Ireland, and Italy. By ‘J’ we got Japan, Jordan, and Jamaica. And for S we have South Africa, Sudan, Singapore, Sri Lanka, South Korea, Serbia, Slovakia, Spain, Switzerland, and Suriname. But like you said, this mixes things from the order of the codes.”
Church pursed his lips. “Give me all the countries that start with those letters.”
“For I we have nine countries: Iceland, India, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Ireland, Israel, and Italy. For the ‘ J s’ we have six: Jamaica, Jan Mayen, Japan, Jersey, Jordan, Juan de Nova Island. And the big list is ‘ S ’: Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Samoa, San Marino, Sao Tome and Principe, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Serbia and Montenegro, Seychelles, Sierra Leone, Singapore, Slovakia, Slovenia, Solomon Islands, Somalia, South Africa, South Korea, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Suriname, Swaziland, Sweden, Switzerland, and Syria.”
“Did you run it through the CT package?”
“Got it, sending it to you now.”
There were multiple potential targets on the list from the counterterrorism software package, but MindReader was designed to look for patterns and probabilities. It weighted its choices, and at the top of each list was the most likely target, the one that would have the greatest economic, social, cultural, or political impact.
Church scanned the list.
“My God,” he said.
Lilith saw it too. And then Circe.
Rudy and Bug said, “What?”