than to try to talk Dave out of coming with us. Still, it was easily the worst idea of all time. I needed him gone. Far away. Preferably in another time zone, where we could only speak via sat phone, our signals kissing cheeks as they met at a dish not unlike the one that sat atop the TV van.
Which gave me the brightest idea ever. Inside my head, Granny May grinned, nodded with approval, and said,
Finally
.
“I need you and Jet at the TV station,” I told Dave. “Right now it’s being manned by the two remaining reavers who were sent to take me out. You need to either get control of them, so they’ll obey your orders, or kill them and then figure out how to receive a live feed from the van and then transmit it out the tower. Just remember, if you do kill them, you’ll also have to contend with mahghul.” I described the little buggers and briefly explained my own showdown with them in front of the temple.
“It sounds as if you have a plan,” said Vayl.
I tried to contain my rising excitement, but as I continued to roll the idea around in my brain and couldn’t think of any huge stoppers, I couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Maybe,” I said. “Just maybe there’s a way we can save our asses while we accomplish this one. Bergman? We’re going to need your expertise, buddy. Looks like you’re really going to earn that vacation tonight.”
Fleeting look of fear. Then it was replaced by a new expression. Bergman and determination: I kind of thought they looked good on each other. He nodded sharply. “You’ve got me.”
“Cam, don’t you guys all carry first aid kits?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to need to fake an injury to my left hand.” He looked bewildered, but knew better than to ask questions while I was on a roll. As he left to get his supplies I spec-phoned Asha. “How’s it going on your end?” I asked.
“Excellent. You would not believe the plans FarjAd and Zarsa have made! I think they have pulled apart the seams of the world and resewn them four different times since they met! Zarsa believes she can use her Gift to help FarjAd survive any future attacks. And he thinks having a woman of her ability and family support will bring even more people to his movement. And you?”
“So far, so good. But I have another favor to ask: We need your wheels one last time.” I explained our mission and my plan as well as I could in ten seconds.
“I will be right there,” he said. I had to give Asha his pats. When he finally decided to step back into the ring, he did it with both feet.
We all escorted Dave to the living room to wait with Jet for Asha. Cassandra would stay with them too until they left, at which time she’d go back to Grace. The Amazon was definitely getting the short end of the stick on this one. But considering Dave had just died — again — I wasn’t wasting any sympathy on her.
“I’ll be okay,” Dave kept insisting as one by one we asked him if we could get him anything before we left. It just felt wrong to go. We should be celebrating. We should be bouncing off the ceilings, for chrissake! And instead we were deserting the man whose resurrection we had all hoped and prayed for. Not only that. We were allowing him to step back into a life-or-death situation. Despite the fact that we all knew none of us had any other choice, it sucked.
One thing I could do.
Raoul? You are keeping some sort of watch, right? Over him? Over E.J.?
THEY ARE WELL PROTECTED.
And that would have to do for now. I patted Dave as we finally ran out of excuses not to go. “Be careful, please. If I have to bring you back to life again, Raoul’s going to want something major, like a virgin sacrifice. And I need Bergman too badly to give him up at this point.”
Dave laughed, as he was meant to. It brought a whole new meaning to the phrase “music to my ears.” Then, so suddenly it took my breath away, he swung me into a bear hug, lifting me until my toes barely touched the floor. “I love you,” he said. “And about Jessie? I understand. And I forgive you.”
I stood back in his arms. Grateful for his words. Certain they came from his heart. But also sure that heart was no longer as comfortable as it once was. I could see it in his eyes. In the way he looked at his men and then quickly at his fists, so they wouldn’t catch the flicker of rage. Not at them. At himself, for consorting with their enemy. For endangering their lives and their country. It didn’t make sense. Maybe it never would. But I understood. He’d only begun to deal with the realities of what he’d done. And even though he hadn’t been responsible, he was still the boss. So he
felt
like he was. Maybe we could talk it through. Later. Right now — it was time to finish the mission.
Chapter Thirty-Two
T
he Wizard headquartered in the northern part of the city, where the mountains loomed over the rooftops like angry gods. I eyed his house through the rolled-down window of the TV van, charmed by the visual despite knowing its contents. The three-story confection reminded me of a miniature Taj Mahal, a bright white masterpiece complete with turrets and five separate domed roofs. It stood surrounded by a large well-lit yard, securely fenced by a six-foot wall of mauve-tinted concrete. Not a very nondescript home in which to hide the King of Chaos. However the Wizard was also Delir Kazimi, a well-known businessman and community leader. Popular due to his generous contributions to charity. For him the mini mansion, his home away from his Saudi headquarters, fit.
However, its designers had clearly put security first. Cameras perched on the corners of the fence and on strategic points of the house itself. Only one gate allowed access from the front, and that crossed a cement driveway. This led me to assume pedestrian visitors were not welcome at Chez Wiz. While that gate wasn’t manned, it was guarded by an intimidating-looking digital lock whose keypad required you to put your hand entirely inside a metal box. I imagined if your fingerprints didn’t match the scan a small blade came down and chopped it right off.
