“I can’t believe God did this.” Only after the words had left his lips did Goose know that he’d spoken out loud.
“I know. I had the same problem. Sometimes I still do.” Icarus wiped his bloody face with a sleeve.
“I’ve got to go.” Goose bent down to pick up his helmet, which had fallen off during their fight.
“Hear me out,” Icarus said. “Please.” He looked desperate. “I might not get out of this city alive. If Cody’s men find me, I’m dead. Someone else needs to know what is going on.”
Goose stood, but he wanted nothing more than to get back to his unit.
“Please, First Sergeant.”
A truck rumbled by on the street at the alley mouth.
Suddenly aware that they were standing out in the open, Goose motioned toward the shade on the west side of the alley. “There.”
Moving painfully, Icarus walked to an uneven stone wall, then slumped to a sitting position.
Goose sat beside him. He freed his canteen, cracked it open, then handed it to Icarus. They both drank.
“I’m a spy, First Sergeant,” Icarus said.
“You’re CIA,” Goose said. “I knew that.”
Icarus shook his head. “More than that. I’m also Mossad.”
That surprised Goose. The CIA agent Alexander Cody hadn’t said anything about that. The Mossad was Israel’s spy group, one of the best in the world, and one of the most ruthless.
“Cody found out?” Goose asked.
Icarus shook his head. “No. That’s my secret. But it was important that I tell you.”
“You’re a double agent.”
“A triple agent, actually. I was Mossad, pretending to be a CIA agent, pretending to be a PKK terrorist.”
Goose digested that with difficulty.
“In my assignment for the CIA,” Icarus said, “I was supposed to infiltrate the PKK and set up a computer network inside their systems that would allow the CIA better access into the terrorist organizations.” “Terrorist cells don’t communicate with each other much,” Goose said, remembering all the training he’d had in counterterrorist measures. “That’s one of the things that makes them so dangerous.”
“But they’re making more and more contact with each other,” Icarus said. “Terrorist organizations are made up of men. Men are fallible. The erosion of the terrorist cells is a natural occurrence with the advent of the Internet and other electronic communications. The program I secretly installed into the PKK cell’s computer systems allowed the CIA to better monitor that cell’s activities as well as others they contacted. The progression of the program spread with each contact. The program is an amazing piece of work.”
“But you were also spying on the CIA,” Goose reminded.
“Yes. The Mossad have been on the alert ever since Dr. Rosenzweig invented his fertilizer. Israel’s increased capacity to produce and provide crops in the Middle East as well as parts of Europe has greatly impacted markets the United States has controlled for decades. The possibility of Dr. Rosenzweig’s fertilizer formula getting into the hands of the world was even more problematic.”
“Do you think the U.S. government would—”
“Do anything they could to control the distribution of Dr. Rosenzweig’s formula?” Icarus nodded. “Yes, I do. So do the Mossad commanders I work for.”
“Have you been in touch with the Mossad?” Goose wanted to know how complicated the situation brewing in Sanliurfa was.
“No.”
“So you haven’t been able to arrange exfiltration?”
“No. For all I know, they believe I’m dead. The means I had of contacting them is gone. I can’t get a message out.”
“Would they come if you did?”
“Possibly,” Icarus said. “Or send a sweeper team in to eliminate me and whatever I might give up.” He paused. “Just talking to you like this, I’ve put your life at risk if they ever find out. So it would be in your best interest to limit who you reveal this conversation to.”
Goose nodded.
“The reason the Mossad was watching the CIA,” Icarus went on, “was due to some intelligence work they were doing in Romania.”
“Romania?”
“Yes. Over the last several years, there has been a push in the intelligence circles around the world. When these new networks could be traced, which wasn’t often, they led back to Romania.”
Goose thought about the way OneWorld NewsNet happened to be on hand when the Turkish military effort as well as the U.S. and U.N. needed them most.
“Romania,” Goose said, “doesn’t seem like it would be a hotbed of international spying. For one thing, what could they hope to gain?”
Icarus was silent for a time. “What about the world, First Sergeant? Would that be enough?”
“This is insane.” Goose tried to wrap his mind around the idea but couldn’t. “How could Romania hope to take over the world?”
“Not Romania,” Icarus said. “One man … no … I mean one being.”
Goose looked at the other man.
“The Rapture has happened, First Sergeant,” Icarus said in a soft voice. “Your son was taken by God, as were all the other children and all those believers who knew He would come and trusted in Him and accepted Him.”
Tears stung Goose’s eyes as he thought of Chris again.
“Don’t feel too sad for your son,” Icarus advised. “He’s safe. No evil can ever touch him. He was an innocent. You need to believe that.” He paused. “The people you have to worry about now are those who were left behind. For the next seven years, they’ll be subjected to trials and tribulations that will kill many of them and put others through the most fearful things that a human can endure.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s the time of the Tribulation, First Sergeant. The time of final decisions of whether to believe or not to believe.”
Goose remembered the times Bill had mentioned the Tribulation. The events that followed the Rapture were supposed to be horrific, but that was all Goose really remembered. Wait … there was something about the four horsemen and seals and trumpets … but he couldn’t remember much else.
“Talk to Corporal Baker,” Icarus advised. “I was raised in the faith of my country. The concept of Christianity as Baker follows it remains new
