“Okay,” she said, wondering if he was planning an attack against Trinity Loop. Or maybe St. George’s was the target? Or something larger, like the White House? She glanced at the crates, wondering how many weapons Victor possessed. How many targets could he strike simultaneously? She shook the thoughts off. He would tell her what she needed to know and nothing more.

“I sense a new threat rising—one I thought we had cast aside years ago,” he said. “You must deal with her. Keep her distracted so that we might complete the task you’ve failed to accomplish.”

It was not lost on her that he had not answered her question.

“Rachel?” she asked, her detective’s mind putting the pieces together.

“Very good,” he hissed. “Unless, of course, this small task is also beyond your capability. We would hate to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, I can do it. She trusts me,” she said, hoping beyond hope that was true. “But as you know, she lives on the Trinity campus now. She’s surrounded by Shepherds.”

“Don’t worry, we have a plan for them.”

“And the children?” she pressed, desperately needing to understand his endgame. “They’re always watching.”

“Yes,” Victor said, his voice the sound of many. “Which is why we have been gathering . . . gathering . . . gathering . . . until we are ready to challenge them all. When we are done, the remaining faithful in America will believe themselves abandoned by God, and in the wake of our victory, we will deal with the girl and her friends.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

BOARDROOM 6, MEZZANINE LEVEL

RENAISSANCE HONG KONG HARBOUR VIEW HOTEL

1016 HOURS LOCAL

Jed moved about the room with a stern and suspicious look on his face and tried desperately not to make eye contact with the two Chinese men dressed in suits who were standing by the window. Nisha had told him that if he had to speak, he should speak English and use a thick Russian or German accent—whichever he thought he could pull off best. He’d decided on German, leaving the fake Russian accent for Grayson. As a door-kicking SEAL, he’d perfected neither, nor any other spooky, NOC-related acting skills. But on one deployment to Iraq he’d worked closely with German special forces operators from KSK Rapid Forces Division and thought he could reproduce the accent he’d heard every day for four months. He’d never had to act like anything other than an operator when he’d come through a door. Scaling down to civilian clothes on a few operations in the Baltics was as close to James Bond as he’d ever come.

“Nì zài shéi de bâohu duì?” one of the Chinese men said.