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“I thought your night was fully booked,” Julian said, pouring himself a Perrier, but forgoing the pleasure of slicing the lime. “Is there a problem I’m not aware of? According to the news outlets, Salerno went about as expected.”
“Casualties?”
“Initial reports are six police and one civilian killed in addition to the driver. There’s no reliable count on the injured yet.”
“Were our people on the dock able to get samples of the merchandise?”
“Seven tablets. A lot were burned too badly to be useful, and even more were blown into the water.”
“And you’ve sent them in for analysis?”
“They’re on their way.”
Losa turned his attention back to the candles. “Six dead police officers and fifteen metric tons of a very new kind of drug. I wonder if that’ll be enough to motivate the Europeans.”
Julian laughed and took a chair across from him. “They’ll shake their fists in the general direction of Syria, but no more than that. It’s a quagmire they have no interest in getting dragged into.”
“That makes two of us.”
Julian’s expression changed in a way that was all too familiar. He had something to say and had finally been provided an entrée.
“Then let’s not. The Americans would call this situation a train wreck, but it’s a slow-moving one. The Muslims have admittedly done an impressive job of building their organization, but it doesn’t rival ours.”
“Not yet. But all indications suggest that they have the resources.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? We both know that the Syriangovernment is behind this. Do we want to go to war with an entire country? Even a pariah one? Would it be wiser to organize an orderly retreat? Instead of playing to win, play to delay. We’re not as young as we used to be, Damian. Maybe we should look at this as an opportunity. A reason to get out of the European drug trade. We make more in America and our position there is unassailable.”
It was something that Losa had spent a great deal of time considering, but without arriving at any conclusion. The idea of a strategic withdrawal had its charms, but it was easier said than done.
“A few years ago, we’d have said our position in Europe was unassailable. Can we afford to have our enemies—and our allies—see us in retreat? Even an orderly one?”
“I think it’s possible that you’re overestimating how much people will blame us for backing away from an extremely costly and politically charged war.”
“Really? Because I think you’re underestimating it. But which of us is right? I don’t know. We don’t have enough information.”
“I agree that more information is always better. But it doesn’t seem to be on offer.”
“It might be in Damascus.”
Julian shook his head. “Syria is a graveyard for us, Damian. They’ve already subverted or destroyed most of our network there. We don’t understand the players or the rules. Any contact we make with them is more apt to hurt us than help us.”
“But if we had access to someone whodoesunderstand those things?”
“I can’t think of anyone in our organization who fits that description.”
“What about someone outside of the organization?”
“Who?”
“Mitch Rapp.”
Julian laughed, but then fell silent when he realized Losa was serious. “You want to call in your marker with him?”
“Why not?”
“Why not? How much time do you have? He’s a CIA operative completely loyal to his country. He’s incredibly unpredictable, violent, and not afraid of us. He has resources that we don’t understand and can’t control. He—”
“But you agree he’s capable.”
