POLICE STATION, MARZANABAD, IRAN—08:05 / 8:05 A.M. IRST
Nicole woke. She shifted her body slightly, causing a metallic clatter. The first thing she noticed was the cold—bitter, permeating, reaching through flesh to touch her bones. Her shivering began immediately and increased in intensity until a hard exhalation involuntarily escaped her mouth in a thick cloud of condensation.
Taking a quick inventory, she realized her coat was gone, her boots were gone, and her socks were gone. Thankfully, they’d left her wearing her jeans and sweater. Looking at her hands, she saw that all her jewelry had been removed, including the ring that had put a little dent in Officer Kazemi’s chin. Now she was sporting two shiny silver bracelets, each attached to a chain connected to the arms of the chair on which she sat. A quick movement of her bare feet let her know her body had four points of connection to her cold, metal perch.
Her head felt like someone with a wrench was torquing an invisible metal band around it. She probed the inside of her mouth with her tongue, and the raw swelling let her know she would likely be chewing her food on the right side for the foreseeable future.
Your first in-country op in enemy territory, and what do you do? You assault a police officer.
But a part of her wasn’t sorry for what she’d done. In modeling, you deal with a lot of piggy men—photographers, designers, and agents who let their hands “accidentally” brush or press or linger. So often, she’d wanted to do more than just stand there and take it. Several times she’d at least said something, angrily telling a guy what he could do with his wandering hands. But this was the first time she’d lashed out physically, and it felt good.
But now she’d pay for it.
Panic began to rise, but she quickly swallowed it. Be smart. Be proactive. Know your surroundings.
What would Nir do?
The room she was in was small, its only furnishings an old black metal chair with severely chipping paint and what she could only assume was a mate to her own. An unfruitful attempt to tip from side to side let her know the other chair had much more mobility than hers did.
She saw no windows, no mirrors, no cameras—only four walls desperately in need of a fresh coat of paint. But there was the cold. The room had plenty of that.
The door opened. Two officers walked in and took up positions in front of her, one in each corner of the room. A third uniformed man walked in behind them and closed the door. Even more than the stars on his shoulders, his attitude told Nicole he was the superior among the trio.
He stood behind the empty chair and stared at her. Nicole stared back until it became too awkward, then looked down at her hands. They were resting on her lap.
“My men and I are having a debate,” he said, suddenly smiling.
Nicole quickly looked up again, surprised at hearing English.
“I say your name is pronounced le Roo like the French. They say it is le Rucks. But I believe that would be far too ugly a name for so beautiful a woman. I would be very grateful if you would settle the dispute.”
“Your—” Her voice broke into a cough. She hadn’t realized how dry her throat was. She continued hoarsely, “Your pronunciation is the correct one.”
“Ha!” he cried. “Ignorant fools!” Turning to the other two, he spoke in Farsi. When she heard her name mentioned, the men scowled at her.
Returning his gaze to her, the man continued. “My name is Lieutenant Asadi, and I would like to thank you for increasing the contents of my wallet at the expense of my two officers. But maybe you can help me more. We have another bet. We found some photographs of a Nicole le Roux on the internet. She looks a lot like you, but I say it can’t be you. I can’t believe someone who seems so modest in person could actually make her living dressing like a whore.”
With that last word, everything in her mind shifted. All hope for a quick resolution was gone. This was bad, and it was only going to get worse. No one—not even Nir and his team of Kidon fighters—would be able to protect her from what was bound to come next. She didn’t even know if they could save her at all.
Stepping forward, Asadi removed his phone from his pocket. He pressed several buttons, then held the screen in front of her. She recognized the photo immediately. It was from her modeling agency’s portfolio. The bikini was quite spare, and the camera angle left little to the imagination. “Is this you, Miss le Roux?”
Nicole looked down once more and didn’t answer.
Asadi’s tone was firmer when he spoke again. “I asked you a question. Is this you?”
Without looking up, she nodded. “Yes.”
“It is?” He looked at the screen for a moment, then turned and said something to the guards before swiping on his phone as he faced her again. “I must say I am surprised at you.” He held up the phone again. “What about this one?”
The photo was from a lingerie shoot she’d done. She’d loved it because it had seemed so artsy. But now, seeing it on this man’s screen, she felt dirty and ashamed.
“It’s me.”
Once again, Asadi said something to the guards, who both responded with obviously crude comments. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now I’m more than surprised at you, Miss le Roux. I’m shocked. I told my men it couldn’t be you, but they were sure.” He laughed. “I must say, they really love this picture. In fact, I think Officer Taheri over there has made it the new wallpaper on his own phone.”
Nicole looked at Taheri, who leered back at her.
“I should be angry with you for causing me to lose my bet. But I figure it’s just the money I won in the first wager. Besides, your body of work on the internet has simply given us all too much enjoyment for me to be mad,” he said, emphasizing the word body. He seemed quite amused at his pun, because he immediately said something to the guards, who both laughed at his great wit.
Nicole fought to keep control. Adrenaline had warmed her, but now her shivering was from fear. She didn’t know if she was about to be beaten, raped, imprisoned, or killed—or quite possibly all of the above.
The lieutenant sat on the chair opposite her.
“Okay, Miss le Roux, enough fun. It is time for business. Tell me why you are in Iran.”
She knew this one. She’d practiced it over and over. “I’m here on a photo shoot. I have a session with a photographer this afternoon at Namakabrud Beach. I was in Tehran overnight because I wanted to see the city.”
Asadi stared at her for a few moments, then said, “What a strange way of speaking. Almost as if you are reading from cue cards. Or maybe…” He leaned forward and put his hand on Nicole’s knee. “Maybe it was rehearsed. Why would you rehearse what to say to me?”
He wasn’t wrong. She had rattled off that little soliloquy like it was printed on a page.
“It is rehearsed,” she said, admitting that part of the truth with a forced smile. “Honestly, I was so scared when we were pulled over that I practiced what I was going to say while I waited in the back seat.”
“Ah, yes, we will certainly have to talk about when you were pulled over. But we’ll do that in a minute. Right now, I want you to answer me truthfully. Why are you in Iran?” He squeezed her knee with the precise amount of tension to elevate the sensation from discomfort to pain.
“What are you doing?” She tried to move her leg, but he kept his grip.
“Answer my question.”
“I did answer it. I’m doing a photo shoot at—”
“Liar! I have not been stationed here in the north for long, but even I know no one would travel to this country just to take photographs at Namakabrud Beach. I wouldn’t even drive my family there on a weekend to take any. Now, why are you here?”
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” she answered, the volume of her voice rising. “What other reason would I be here? I’m a model. I have my picture taken for a living as you clearly saw on the internet. The magazine I was hired for is doing a series called Shore Line: Danger Line—photo spreads taken on beaches in dangerous countries. Yes, it’s a stupid title, but it’s a paying job. So I took it. I don’t know what else to say.”
Asadi released Nicole’s knee and leaned back, then crossed his arms and watched her. She forced herself not to squirm under his stare.
After a long silence, he asked, “And do you think my country is a dangerous one?”
Nicole held up her hands and rattled the chains. “I didn’t at first, but my mind is changing.”
“Then let me tell you this, young lady. You haven’t seen anything yet.”