In all Nir’s years with the Mossad, he had been in this auditorium only once. That had been when he graduated from his training and received his credentials from the ramsad. Set up as a small amphitheater, the room had built-in seating for around 80 with chair room for another 20 or so. Nir didn’t think they would need that many seats for this meeting, but he didn’t know for sure. It wasn’t his meeting.
About 20 people were scattered throughout. Never one to put himself forward, Nir didn’t move down the steps, preferring to settle himself in the back row. He dropped into the theatre-style seat and waited for the show to begin. In front sat a table with seven microphones perched in front of seven chairs.
Lord, save me from ever being a microphone person. I like living in the shadows.
Nir noticed movement to his right. It was Irin Ehrlich, another Kidon team leader. The two men had experienced their differences in the past, but after two of their fellow leaders were killed and another retired, they were the only old guard left. Both had individually decided that they would do their best to put aside their differences and try to get along. It wasn’t easy. Ehrlich had jerkness molded into him like dimples on a golfball. But when the man reached out his hand, Nir fist-bumped it.
As he settled into a seat one removed from Nir’s, he said, “Heard you sold off your cash cow in Belgium.”
That was the thing with Ehrlich. Great shooter, great strategist. He was a guy you wanted to have on your team in a firefight. But he always had to start talking.
“Yep.”
I will not get baited into an argument. I will not get baited into an argument.
“Why would you want to do that? You’ve got more money than most of the people who’ll be in this meeting. I always wondered how you pulled that off.”
Nir kept looking straight ahead, hoping that his lack of eye contact would lessen his deep craving to tell the man to shut up. “It’s good to be the teacher’s pet.”
“No doubt about that.” Ehrlich leaned Nir’s way so that he was half over the seat between them. “So, what are you thinking about this whole Russia thing?”
“Heck if I know. Could just be humanitarian aid, like the boxes say.”
Ehrlich snorted. “Chai b’seret! Then why is it just sitting there? And why haven’t they sent it to Homs like the rest of their crap?”
Nir kept looking forward. “I don’t know. Hopefully, this meeting will give us a little insight.”
“Yeah, whatever,” sneered Ehrlich. “These stupid meetings are a waste of time.”
“I’ll make sure the ramsad knows you feel that way,” said a new voice.
Nir looked over and saw Efraim walking up to Ehrlich. “Excuse me,” he said, intentionally pushing into the Kidon leader’s knees. Nir could tell that he was also making sure his backside was passing dangerously close to the other man’s face. Once he cleared him, he plopped down in the seat between Nir and Ehrlich.
Surprised to see him, Nir asked, “Achi, what are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be down there behind one of those mics?”
“Alas, those microphones are for people whose pay grade is much higher than mine.”
“Speaking of pay grades,” said Ehrlich. “Now that Nir is back here, any chance you could set me up with some high-paying European gig like he managed to get?”
“As a matter of fact, we have an opening in Bulgaria for a colostomy technician. Of course, you’d have to start at the bottom and work your way up.”
Ehrlich muttered a curse and shifted several seats to the right.
Still looking ahead, Nir said, “Sometimes working with you is like working with a thirteen-year-old.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Seriously, though, shouldn’t you at least be toward the front in case you’re needed?”
“No. I get the feeling this is one of those informational meetings as opposed to a Q and A. The seven of them have been in a conference for the past two hours. All I know about this is the text I got saying to be here now. I’m assuming it’s about Russia.”
Nir was trying to count out the seven people in his head as his friend was talking. “Okay, I’ve got Katz, obviously. I’m figuring Asher Porush and Karin Friedman. Who else?”
“So, you’re right on the first three. There’s the ramsad, the deputy director of Mossad, and the assistant deputy director. But then you’ve got the government folk—Idan Snir, Shaul Arens, Dan Hurvitz, and Eli Rosen.”
Nir ticked them off in his head—the prime minister, the foreign minister, the minister of defense, and the minister of interior. “Wow, that’s quite a lineup.”
“That’s because anything having to do with Russia is a big deal. Oh, look who’s walking in down there.”
Nir followed the man’s finger and saw Yoram Suissa, the director of Caesarea. He sat in the front row next to the two replacement Kidon leaders. “Interesting. Having him here along with Ehrlich, me, and the new guys tells me that we may be taking action.”
A door on the right side of the platform opened, and six men and one woman walked out. Nir looked around and saw that the amphitheater was about half full. Probably 30 to 40 were in the audience. Nir recognized the heads of most departments, even though he couldn’t remember all the names. The director of analytics, each division of intelligence gathering, and even the guy who led “future casting.” Nir had shared a lunch with the man and was amazed at his grasp of national and global trends. The final group in attendance was the one to which he belonged—operations. Everyone had top-secret clearance, and each would be essential to whatever the chiefs on the platform were planning.
The men and woman on stage took their designated seats, and Prime Minister Snir began to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me first thank you for being here. Let me also thank you for your hard work over these past few weeks analyzing the situation with Russia. Before we fill you in on any conclusions we’ve come to, let me have my colleagues tell you their concerns and where they are coming from.” Turning to his left, he said, “Foreign Minister.”
When Shaul Arens began to talk, Nir let out a silent sigh. At least he thought it was silent, but an elbow from Efraim and a glare from a woman two rows up told him that he was mistaken. He straightened up and pretended to be interested in what was being said. But the man’s monotone delivery was somnambulic. Nir took a quick look at his watch and did the mental time-zone math between where he sat and Lisbon, Portugal, where Nicole was preparing for a smallish fashion show. With her face in his mind, he settled back in his chair to debate the best way to convince her to come to Israel.
Unfortunately, he didn’t need her in Tel Aviv at the moment. He just wanted her there. His time with his family in Afula had been pleasant despite the annual row between his father and Elias. But it had also gotten him thinking about Nicole. Any other woman he would have married by now and probably had a couple ankle biters of his own. But Nicole had her Christian faith, and she wore it like a suit of armor that allowed him to get close, but not close enough.
If only she would compromise on that one thing, then we could be together. But then again, if she was the kind of girl who compromised on something that important, would you want to be with her? Face it—it’s your own high standards that led you to fall for the one woman on earth who you can’t have.
But Nir knew that wasn’t totally true. There was one way he could have her. But that would mean buying in completely to her “Jesus as Messiah” belief system. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to that point. Something in his heart kept him from accepting it as truth. That block was aggravating, but he was also thankful for it. Whatever was keeping him from accepting Nicole’s Jesus was part of what made him who he was.
Nir started. An elbow was pushing into his side. “Nir, wake up. He’s talking to you,” Efraim was whispering to him.
Sitting up straight, Nir said to the foreign minister, “Could you please repeat the question, Mr. Foreign Minister?”
Unfortunately, it was Defense Minister Hurvitz who answered. Nir quickly adjusted his attention.
“I said that since you are the one person in this room who has had the most recent deep dive with them, I wondered if you might have any insight.”
Nir sat like a deer in headlights.
“He’s talking about the Russians,” whispered Efraim.
“Still?” Nir cleared his throat and said, “Sir, I don’t trust the Russkis as far as I can throw them. But it’s a different kind of distrust than I have for Hamas. I don’t trust Hamas because I know exactly what they’re going to do. They’re going to try to kill me and my family. The Russians, though, have so many more layers that you never quite know where they’re coming from. They’re like Turkish baklava. Every layer you pull off reveals a new layer. Could they be preparing to invade us? Sure. I wouldn’t put that past them. Could they just be trying a new route to ship aid to Damascus? Might be. Why not? Or could they be baiting us to do something like blow up a warehouse full of humanitarian aid so that we somehow look worse on the world stage than we already do? Definitely a possibility.”
Hurvitz was about to follow up, but the ramsad cleared his throat, effectively taking the stage. In his low grumble, he said, “Tavor, if you were a betting man, where would you put your money?”
“I’d put it on Manchester City. But when it comes to the Russians, I wouldn’t put it anywhere until I had a chance to look in those boxes.”
The ramsad grunted, then leaned back in his chair. He turned and said something sotto voce to the prime minister.
“Cut the mics,” said the prime minister. The seven people on stage began a discussion.
“Smooth, Tavor,” said Ehrlich with a laugh.
“I thought this wasn’t going to be Q and A,” Nir whispered to Efraim, ignoring the Kidon team leader’s dig.
“It wasn’t supposed to be. But I also didn’t think you’d treat it like nap time.”
Ehrlich jumped in again. “He was probably thinking about that hot number he’s got. The beautiful analyst with the smoking green eyes. Yeah, look at his face. He’s turning all red.”
A woman in front of Ehrlich turned around and shushed him. He quieted down, but he didn’t stop grinning at Nir.
“Ignore him,” Efraim said. But he had a subtle grin on his face. “Ehrlich’s a jerk, but he’s also not wrong. You either need to marry Nicole or cut her loose and hitch yourself to some babushka you can settle down with and make babies.”
“Can we talk about this another time?” Nir pleaded. Now the woman shushed the two of them. Nir apologized, then said to Efraim, “See?”
The seven bigwigs talked for about ten minutes before the prime minister called out to turn the mics back on.
The defense minister began to speak. “We’re facing two major problems with these boxes. First, learning what is in them. Then second, if they are weapons like we fear, we need to be ultra precise in destroying them. You all know what happened in 2020 when the ammonium nitrate exploded in the Port of Beirut. At least 218 people dead, more than 7,000 hurt, and over $15 billion in damages. If our missiles are off just a few meters and we set off something like that, we will be international pariahs for decades. And deservedly so. What that means is we need beacons placed in or on those boxes to guide our weapons precisely where they need to go.”
The ramsad now spoke again. “Tavor, since you would like so much to see what is in those boxes, I am sending your team in.”
Nir was about to protest that it was a near-impossible task, but Ehrlich was on his feet first.
“If he’s not up for it, my team is.”
The ramsad sighed. “Ehrlich, you are backup. If for some reason Tavor’s team is not able to go or he is captured, you will step in. Tavor, your mission is twofold. First, examine the boxes. You won’t be able to open all of them, but open enough to get a picture of what they contain. If you discover weapons, then place the beacons and get yourselves out. Do you understand?”
Nir stood. There was no way now that he was going to let Ehrlich take the lead. “I understand, ha’mefaked. But I’m going to need plenty of resources.”
“All we have is at your disposal,” said Defense Minister Hurvitz.
“Much appreciated. Director Suissa, I would like my team to spend some time with you to talk strategy,” Nir said, addressing the head of Caesarea.
“I’m available,” he replied.
The prime minister closed the meeting. “Okay, we’re done here. Thank you all for coming. And, Tavor, Godspeed to you.”
Nir nodded to the man, then turned toward the door. At least now he had his excuse to get Nicole back into the country.