AROMA ESPRESSO BAR, TEL AVIV, ISRAEL—15:20 / 3:20 P.M. IST
Nir carried two full ceramic mugs to the corner table where Nicole sat waiting for him. Their usual spot, it gave them both a clear view of the front doors and all the windows. And, tucked away as it was, it was unlikely they’d be overheard.
“Is it feasible?” Nir asked, taking a sip of his latte.
“I’ve seen Alicia’s workshop. It’s really big. It has to be because curing the materials and creating the artwork is done in several stages. Once it’s painted, she has a whole separate process for protecting the paint with this glossy sealant and finalizing the canvas. Then there’s the packaging for shipping. I was shocked when I saw her space. She has, like, three or four people working for her.”
“Again, is it feasible?”
“There has to be a way, but that’s much more your mind than mine.”
“It takes a criminal to think like a criminal?”
Nicole laughed. “Something like that.”
“Okay, I’ll get my gang of hooligans together, and we’ll talk it through. But any way you look at it, I think a trip to Houston is in my future.”
Nicole held her own latte in her hands as though she was enjoying the warmth of the mug. She took a sip, then put it down. “So did the ramsad really go after you?”
“It wasn’t pretty, I’ll say that. But he did recognize that something weird had to have happened, because the whole thing doesn’t make sense. Who benefited by the gun not being fully destroyed? And who would have gained by our playing catch-the-bullet in that box truck? The obvious answer to both questions is the IRGC. But that makes no sense in context, because if the IRGC were involved, they would have thwarted the whole attack, and Fakhrizadeh would still be alive today.”
Nicole leaned forward. “Well…maybe just before I left headquarters to meet you here, your team of merry analysts and I found something you can share with the ramsad to make him a little less grumpy.”
Nir raised his eyebrows as he finished off his latte. “As you like to say, color me intrigued.”
“You know how in most places it’s Follow the money? In Iran, it’s—”
“Follow the bodies.”
“The bodies have started piling up.” She lifted her phone from her purse, swiped around a little bit, then showed the screen to Nir.
“He’s ugly. Who is he?”
“This was one of the Baloch engineers who helped assemble the gun.”
“Was?”
“He was found dead in a hotel room, tortured and then eviscerated alongside his mistress, who happened to be a Kurd. Our Baloch friends tell us he was the one who tampered with the explosives so the charge was directed away from the gun. Why? you might ask.” Nicole paused, obviously enjoying the reveal.
Nir waited, then realized action was required on his part. “Why?”
“Here. You may need this so you can follow me.” She swapped her mostly full mug with his empty one. “Okay, the Baloch engineer liked to pillow talk his mistress about his secret projects. You know, show how important he was. Little did he know she was connected into the Kurdish resistance. She told the Kurds about the robotic gun, and they decided they really wanted the technology.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“The problem was that the head of the engineers was very protective of the plans, allowing each person to see only their part of them. Since the bad-egg engineer couldn’t just abscond with the plans, the Kurds went to Plan B. They had some compromising information on a Persian guy in the weapons analysis department for the Iranian military. If this guy could just see the weapon, he could lay out plans to replicate it. Still with me?”
“Barely.”
“Try to keep up, old man. The Kurdish mistress lovey-doveyed her Baloch engineer into tampering with the explosives so the gun wouldn’t be destroyed. Then she promised him a ton of money from the Kurds if he could use the information from their weapons analysis guy to recreate the robotic gun.”
“That was a lot of words. I think I get it, though. So was it the Baloch or the Kurds who then wanted the IRGC to kill us in the truck?”
“Neither.”
Nir threw up his hands. “Okay, I need another latte.”
Nicole laughed. “That second incident was about both bodies and money and was totally separate from the first.”
“Oy vavoy, I might actually need a little something from my uncle’s secret cabinet to pour into my coffee.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “The leader of the Arab community next to where your Kurdish driver and son lived had been trying to ingratiate himself to the IRGC, because when you have the big bullies on your side, you can be a bully too.”
“It’s called being a toady. The kids I learned English from on the kibbutz taught me that word.”
“Well, it fits. The Arab guy had spread the word that he would pay good money for information the IRGC might find interesting. The father and son told the Arab they just might know where six Mossad operatives could be found. The Arab told the IRGC, and there you go.”
“Amazing. Two betrayals, two different actors. Everybody and everything is for sale in the Middle East. Any idea what happened to the Kurds?”
“This part is just rumor from the Kurd community right now, but word is the IRGC wasn’t too thrilled about one of their squads being wiped out by a mysterious helicopter incursion. They needed scapegoats, and the driver and son fit the bill, as did the Arab guy. Sounds like they may not still be among the living.”
Nicole stood and lifted both mugs. “Hang on,” she said, then walked to the counter. A few minutes later, she came back with just one mug and placed it in front of Nir.
“Thanks.”
Sitting, she reached across the table, took his hand, and looked right into his eyes. “Now, in all honesty, how close was it?”
“Honestly? If that CIA chopper hadn’t come in all Apocalypse Now, I wouldn’t be here.”
She held his eyes, then leaned back in her chair and looked down at her lap.
“I know what you’re thinking, Nicole. What would have happened to me if I hadn’t made it out of there alive? Well, you might be interested to know I actually had a talk with your God when I was in the midst of it.”
Nicole looked up and raised her eyebrows. “I did.
I don’t know if it had anything to do with how the battle turned out. But if so, then I owe Him one—a big one.”
Nicole smiled and shook her head. “You still don’t get it, Nir. It doesn’t work that way.”
“What do you mean?” He’d thought Nicole would be excited that he’d prayed, but as usual, she liked to zag when he thought she’d zig.
“Think about it. What do you have that God needs?”
Nir started to answer her question several times, but each time he stopped before the words came out. Everything that came to mind seemed silly or petty.
She continued. “People think God works on some kind of barter system. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. But it doesn’t work like that. It can’t work like that. It’s like a three-year-old offering you something for your BMW. What could he possibly have for a fair trade?”
Nir laughed. “Remember, I’m a Jew. There’s always a deal to be made.”
Nicole smiled and shook her head. “Not with this, Nir. One time Jesus sent His disciples out to tell people about Him. He gave them this whole list of instructions, and then He ended by saying, ‘Freely you’ve received; now freely give.’ That’s the order of things. It’s not a transaction. It’s not I’ve got to give something so I can receive something. You’re not buying anything. Salvation is a gift.”
“You see, that’s what doesn’t make sense to me. It’s a losing proposition for God. If I go down the street and give someone a thousand shekels, then tell him, ‘Now, go give that one thousand shekels to someone else,’ what do you think will happen? He’ll be sporting a new watch, and I’ll be out a thousand shekels. That’s human nature.”
Nicole laughed. “You’re exactly right. But it’s not God’s nature. I can give you money, but I can’t change you inside. Yet that’s the change God makes. He gives you salvation, but then He also changes who you are. Think about it. I’m here trying to convince you to take the thousand shekels God gave me.”
Nir leaned back in his chair, then took the now-lukewarm latte and downed it in one long draw. He chuckled and shook his head as he set the mug back down. “Girl, you have been studying.”
Nicole smiled proudly.
“I promised you I would listen. I’m listening.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
Nir stood. “But I’m done listening for now because I just heard two very interesting stories I would like to repeat to the ramsad. Maybe I’ll be able to convince him to hate me just a little bit less.”