The Iranians had even called for a combined military force, and wanted the US and other western armies to gather, to help overwhelm the terrorist fighters. They had even suggested a staging point outside of Dabiq, near Syria. The White House was hailing it as a grand gesture of cooperation. And following two nukes going off in the Middle East, the idea had already gained traction.

Still, it didn’t make sense, Hammerson thought. There was something he was missing. He steepled his fingers at his chin, thinking. If he could prove the Iranians were behind the blasts, or that they already had working nukes, then the negotiations would collapse. There’d be a lot of pissed off people on both sides. Not to mention the grounds for war. But he knew if he passed this up the line, there would be immediate political interference. The CIA would intercept any Intel he provided.

He knew they needed more information. They needed to go in. Hammerson’s senior confidant was General Chilton, theirs was the Commander in Chief himself, who seemed to want this deal as much as the Iranians. Hammerson would be outranked and outflanked. But only if he decided to share what he knew.

Chilton’s last instructions were for him to follow the leads, then find and remove all threats to America and the free world.

Hammerson smiled. He already had his orders.

CHAPTER 9

Tel Aviv, Israel Defense Forces, Biological Containment Room-7

Alex, Sam, and Adira stood around the steel surgical table. The fragments of charred flesh recovered from the Golan Heights were now all in sealed jars. But the thing that held their riveted attention was the head of the being Alex had brought with him.

It balanced on the stump of its neck, twitching, eyes rolling, and mouth working. Thankfully, the eyes never seemed to focus, because if the thing managed to stare into their eyes, it might have been too horrifying to comprehend.

“How?” Adira said. “That’s all I want to know; how?”

Yair Shamir unfolded his arms. He had on plastic gloves and in one hand he held a long steel probe. He put the probe beside the head, and then gripped it in both hands, rolling it gently to the side, exposing the ragged flesh of the neck.

“See, no blood.” He bobbed his head. “When did you say you removed the head?”

“Last night … approximately ten hours ago.” Alex kept his eyes on the thing’s twitching features.

“Yesterday?” Yair raised his eyebrows, picking up the probe. “There’s no blood, and there hasn’t been blood in this thing for weeks, perhaps months.” He indicated the tubes and flesh hanging from the neck, and then scraped at it with the probe. But all that came free was a sticky black substance more like tar than any sort of bodily fluid or excretion.