The last two days had been a lot of hurry up and wait. They didn’t dare go back out and drive the route again. That would have been dangerous and would have signaled uncertainty. Anything they didn’t learn during their first go-round wasn’t worth knowing. He had no idea where Nurettin and his men had gone. They had disappeared the first night, promising to return in time for the extraction. Once again, he found that his life was depending on the word of a Kurd.
Nir shifted on his seat. For all the motorcycles he had ridden over the years, this was the first time that he had found himself sitting back in shotgun. There were other names that Gil and Yaron had for his seat position—none of them polite, none appropriate for mixed company.
Thankfully, Gil was masterful in his driving, and even the weight in Nir’s backpack didn’t pull him backward when his partner accelerated. Both men were dressed identically—black leather from top to bottom with black helmets lightly streaked with red to match their bike. The motorcycle was a TVS Apache RTR 200. It was very maneuverable and had a quick ramp-up speed. Although the kilometers per hour maxed at 127, they wouldn’t need more than that. If they ended up in a chase, it would be in the city. So they would count on Gil’s driving skills to get them clear, not the bike’s speed.
They had been cruising the streets for about 30 minutes when Liora’s voice sounded in Nir’s ear. “Target is exiting the building.” Nir tapped the back of Gil’s helmet with his own to make sure he had heard the report. Gil squibbed a quick left/right to acknowledge. They weren’t far away, so they continued going the opposite direction. They waited for the next update on Emad al-Natsheh’s location.
“Target is confirmed in second vehicle.” There was a pause, then Liora continued, “Eyes on the ground put him in the Lexus SUV.” She then read off a license plate.
Gil revved the engine twice and veered. Nir confirmed they had received the message, simply saying, “Check.”
Traffic was heavy this time of the evening, which was exactly what they had counted on. As the bike made a lazy circle around Topkhaneh Square, Nir pictured in his mind the three-vehicle convoy zigzagging its way through a busy alley system until it found Sadat Sharif. After turning left, they would cruise a few blocks south to Imam Khomeini Street, where they would point themselves to the west.
It was at that junction that Nir had initially wanted to do the hit, but Yaron felt the surrounding buildings weren’t quite right. After some discussion, they decided to let the convoy pass through Hasan Abad Square, travel up a block or so, then hit them there.
Gil finished his lap around the old artillery building and merged into the traffic on Imam Khomeini Street. Up ahead five or six blocks, the convoy should be approaching the main thoroughfare. Gently, Gil feathered the accelerator, keeping their speed without gaining any ground.
“Target is on Khomeini,” said Liora.
Nir tapped Gil’s side, letting him know not to make any sudden moves. Slipping his arms from the backpack, he brought it around to the front. Another tap let his partner know he was holding on. Gil began to twist up the throttle.
“Target is passing through Hasan Abad Square.”
If all went according to plan, they wouldn’t get much farther. As he hoped, Nir heard, “Decoy deployed. Looks like three of four lanes blocked. Traffic is stopped. Target is twelve cars back.”
The one thing the Israelis had been missing was a diversion. It would be too easy to get caught in traffic and lose their chance at the hit. A quick call to Nurettin had provided what they needed. From the sound of things, he had made the right decision bringing the Kurds in. A van driving north on Bastiyun-e-Garbi had just plowed into the west-flowing traffic, bringing it to a standstill.
Next bottle of arak is on me, Mustafa.
As Nir unzipped the backpack with one hand, Gil wove between the cars that had come to a standstill.
“Two blocks ahead,” said Liora.
Inside the bag, Nir felt two buttons, one on top of each mine. He depressed them, knowing that they would trigger blinking green lights.
“One block ahead,” said Liora.
Nir slapped Gil’s side, letting him know that he was ready.
Ten seconds later, Liora said, “On your right. On your right.”
Nir pulled the two mines out of the backpack. He hit one hard against the tinted rear passenger window of the SUV carrying al-Natsheh to make sure he got the attention of all inside. He waved the first magnetic mine in front of them, then slammed it down hard onto the roof. The second he slapped up against the door. Staring into his own reflection in the tinted window, Nir aimed a finger gun and pulled the trigger.