Rudy did not see the connection. “What does that suggest?”

“In terms of symbolism, it suggests a number of things,” said Circe. “The desire for a return to order. Or, in different terms, to the ‘correct’ and precise way things should be. In the current Middle East situation, there are several clashing interpretations for the ‘way things should be.’ The Jews say the Holy Land is theirs, and they can make a good argument for it, from their perspective based on the length of time during which they occupied those lands, the whole ‘chosen people’ thing. Then there’s the Christians who believe that the Holy Lands rightfully passed to them with the birth and, more significantly, the trial, execution, and resurrection of Jesus. Some groups actively believe that the Jews forfeited any rights to those lands when they brought Jesus to Pilate for trial.” She took a breath. “And Islam, though a comparatively younger religion, believes that God specifically handed over the lease for those lands to them through Mohammed. Since there have been Arab peoples there for thousands of years, they, too, can make a good claim for possession.”

“Not to mention the tensions ignited when the nation of Israel was founded,” said Church. “And the deepening crisis when oil was discovered under the sands.”

“Which brings in Europe and America,” said Rudy.

“And Asia. China and Japan are major clients of OPEC.”

“Balance,” mused Rudy sourly. “What about completion?”

“In this context,” said Church, “I find the word deeply troubling. It suggests an end to things. An endgame, perhaps.”

“Nukes would accomplish that,” said Circe.

“How?” asked Rudy. “Beyond simply blowing things up.”

“You know the saying ‘fire purifies’?” asked Circe. “If the oil fields were destroyed and the land laid waste by radiation, there could be no further conflict over there.”

“What are we discussing here?” asked Rudy with a crooked smile. “A doomsday cult?”

Circe wasn’t smiling.

“Madre de Dios,” breathed Rudy.

Chapter Fifty-three

Chapter Fifty-Three

CIA Safe House #11

Tehran, Iran

June 15, 12:29 p.m.

Once we were past the markets, the streets became empty and quiet. No human or car traffic. No sign of Violin, no sign of the Red Knight, but I didn’t like the vibe. The atmosphere was supercharged with tension. I knew that a lot of it was nerves. This whole thing was freaking me out. Truly and deeply.

Haven lay right up the street, though, and I was already starting to breathe easier.

The best safe houses were run by the CIA. They’d been at this longer and they spent a lot of time developing teams to run and oversee the locations. The one Ghost and I headed to was at the fringe of a garment district, with an open lot on one side and a hardware store that was closed on the other. A “For Sale” sign was hung in the window of the store, and I suspected the Company owned that as well.