Nir zigzagged through the halls of the Mossad. It seemed as if everyone alive who had worked for the Mossad at one time or another was in the headquarters and directly in his path. Confusion and desperation showed on many faces. On others, there were tears. Whatever was taking place right now had caught everyone off guard, and it appeared that a lot of innocent civilians were dying as a result.
Arriving at the door of CARL, Nir pressed a card to a pad, and the lock clicked open. As he stepped in, he heard, “Hold that!”
Turning, he saw a late-twenties man with thick black frame glasses and side-parted hair that could probably use a good washing. He wore Birkenstocks, a gift from his friend and fellow analyst Yossi, and a white T-shirt that declared in English, “Vote for Pedro.”
“Thanks for rushing in, Lahav,” Nir said, propping the door open with his foot.
Lahav Tabib, a brilliant mind who often kept a rather tenuous hold on legal convention, was one of the four offbeat millennials who made up his analyst team. The young man didn’t say anything as he passed, but Nir could see that his eyes were red.
Liora and Dafna were already sitting at the conference table, and they gave him tentative waves as he walked in. Liora Regev was a tiny brunette whose sweet was often overpowered by her spicy. Dafna Ronen, however, was pure sharp edge, with enough ink on her body to write a novella.
“Where’s ops?” Nir called out.
“They’re coming,” answered Liora.
Just then, the door burst open. Imri Zaid and Dima Aronov rushed in. Imri was young, bearded, and fit. He kissed Liora on the top of the head as he sat next to her. The two had gotten engaged two weeks earlier, a large group affair, apparently, that Nir had ensured he was out of town for. Dima sat across the table by Lahav. An enormous Russian emigrant, he fit his nickname, Drago, in both looks and attitude.
“Where’s Yaron?” Nir asked.
“Just a few minutes out,” answered Imri.
“Got it,” Nir said, crossing the room to his office door, which he opened long enough to toss his keys on his desk. When he turned back around, the fourth operator entered the room—the new guy.
When Nir had lost a man in Damascus last year, it had taken some time to find someone to fill the cherished teammate’s shoes. They were looking for an experienced operator who was tough, unafraid, had strong medic skills, and wasn’t a stickler for regulations. After several duds, Efraim had finally sent them Gil Haviv. The assistant deputy director had spotted his name on a roster of recent retirees from Shayetet 13, the deadly batwing special forces of the Israeli Navy. Eighteen months ago, Gil had resigned, deciding that he was done with constant deployments and life-threatening situations. He soon realized that sedentary life didn’t suit him. Within three months, his wife had given him an ultimatum: Either he signed up with something or someone that would get him out of the house and out of her hair, or she was going to divorce him. When he heard that the Mossad was looking to replenish their ranks after losing so many agents the previous year in Syria, he put his name in.
Nir had taken to Gil right away, as had the rest of the team. His courage, skill, loyalty, and, most importantly, ability to hold his own with the quirky analyst team had cemented his place as part of the family. As Nir approached the table, he locked eyes with the newbie. What he saw beneath the well-coiffed, precisely shaven exterior was exactly what was reflected in all the others—sorrow mixed with rage.
“Where’s Yossi?” asked Dafna, with touches of concern and accusation in her voice.
“I’ll get to him when Yaron gets here,” Nir answered. “Now, tell me what you know.”
“Why can’t you tell us about Yossi?” asked Liora.
“I said I’ll tell you when Yaron’s here,” Nir snapped. Then he stopped and took a breath. When he spoke again, he forced calm into his voice. “When Yaron’s here, okay? Now, please, fill me in.”
Dafna spoke first. “There are reports of kibbutzim being attacked all along the southern fence. There is no estimate on the size of the enemy force, but it’s at least in the hundreds.”
“Is the IDF engaging them?”
Lahav spoke up, although he kept his eyes on the phone he was scrolling through. “IDF? What IDF? No one was expecting this. The government and generals were all too busy plotting how to get rid of the prime minister, and now those poor settlers are having to fight off an invasion. They don’t stand a chance.”
Nir knew this was true. Israel was a divided country with a growing number of angry leftists seeking to topple the government.
Maybe that will change now.
“Tell me about what’s happening in the north.”
As Nir said this, he heard the door lock disengage. Yaron, the bald, weathered veteran of more operations than Nir could count, came storming in, and as he did, he said in his gravelly voice, “The north! There’s nothing going on in the north.” Getting to his usual chair, he stood gripping its back. “I was just talking with someone in the command chain. He said that when it all started going down, the generals thought Hamas was playing a fake for a northern invasion. Apparently, they forgot that Hamas is too stupid for that kind of strategic thinking. If they look like they are invading from the south, it’s because they are invading from the south. Ahabalim! ” He pulled out his chair and dropped into it.
Nir already knew about the confusion that had sent troops north, so he decided not to pursue it.
“Okay, Nir, Yaron’s here. Tell us about Yossi. He’s at Nova, isn’t he? He told us he might be going,” Liora said. Nir assumed the “us” meant her and Dafna.
Nir took another deep breath before answering. Rarely was he emotional, except when it came to his people.
Come on, man, they need to see strength. Suck it up!
“Yossi is at Nova. He’s alive, and so is Adira.” He paused to let the relief spread through the group. “But it’s not good there. He’s on the run. There’s a massacre taking place. And it’s not just killing. They’re torturing and they’re raping before they kill.”
Everyone reacted to that. Dima slammed his fist so hard on the table that an empty metal snack bowl that had been left in the middle of the table bounced up and flipped over.
“Can they get to his car?” asked a surprisingly emotional Dafna. Rarely had Nir seen much out of her other than snark and snarkier.
“The road is blocked north and south, and they’re shooting people who reach the roadblocks. Right now, Yossi and Adira are on foot running east. There are hundreds of others who are with them.” Pulling out his phone, he said, “Listen, I’ve got Yossi connected right now. He’s keeping his side of the line open. If I put him on, then only encouragement and positive words for him, got it? Dafna, hook my phone into our coms.”
Dafna rolled in her chair across the cement floor to her workstation. After a brief flurry on the keyboard, she said, “Go.”
“Again, if you feel you have to say something, be brief,” said Nir. “He needs to keep situational awareness. Chitchatting with you will just distract him. Understood?”
Nods all around. Nir switched his phone back to Yossi’s line.
Immediately, they heard his heavy breathing. “Nir, is that you?”
“I’m here, Yossi. I’m with the gang at CARL.”
Everyone shouted a greeting or a “We love you” or a “Hang in there.”
Yossi responded with a brief “Hey, guys,” then continued, “Nir, Adira’s been hit. Her right foot took severe damage. I’m carrying her now. I gave her a tab of MDMA to help with the pain, but I don’t know if that is going to help or hurt.”
Lahav clapped his hands, then said, “You did good, achi. It won’t help with the pain, but it will keep her from being able to fully process what she’s feeling. That’s bound to help.”
“Okay, thanks,” said Yossi. “Listen, we got beyond the gunfire, but in the last couple minutes I heard the dirt bikes revving up again. If they come our way, there’s no chance I’ll outrun them.”
A picture popped up stretching across two large monitors hanging above Liora and Dafna’s side-by-side workstations. Nir hadn’t noticed that Liora had rolled away from the table until she said from her desk, “This is Google Earth of the area east of the Nova site. Fields, then scrub.”
Yossi said, “Yeah, exactly. We’re in the scrub now. Mostly bushes and acacia trees.”
“How many are with you?” asked Nir.
Yossi paused, then said, “At least 300 spread around. Maybe more.”
“Can you separate out? Put some distance between yourself and the main pack?”
Yossi was again quiet for a moment, then said, “I…I think so. We’re spread pretty wide already, but I suppose I can move to the edges.”
“Do that. Then, if you hear them coming, take cover before they see you. Remember, you will bring that girl home.”
“Yes, ha’mefaked.” Then after a few more exhausted breaths, Yossi added, “Nir, is anyone coming to get us?”
The question stabbed Nir in the heart. As he looked down at the table, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him.
“Listen, brother, the IDF is coming your direction. Meanwhile, we’re working on a way to get there ourselves. We’re not going to leave you there. Got it? You just keep running. I’m going to leave this channel open but muted. If you need me, you just say something.”
When Yossi answered, Nir could hear the disappointment in his voice. Despite the logistical impracticalities, it seemed like desperation had him hoping that his brothers on the ops team would somehow come rolling in to save them. “Okay, Nir, I understand. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Nir picked his phone up off the table and pressed mute.
“Come with me into the hallway,” a voice said behind him.
Nir spun around and saw Efraim Cohen. He hadn’t heard him come in.
There was so much to do to prepare a rescue operation that normally Nir would have pushed back on his friend. But the look in Efraim’s eyes told him that this time, the best course was obedience. He nodded and followed him through the door.